#but my heart is always with charles kelly

[tinycoffeeroom]

treat you better | carlos sainz

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

requested: Could I request a Carlos smau where another driver breaks your heart and he’s there to pick up the pieces and make you whole again? Please and thank you ❤️

cw: cheating, bad guy charles, mentions of unwell family members, cursing

a/n: charles and alex i love u guys i promise this is just for the au <3

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November

👤 charles_leclerc liked by fan, fan, and 78,283 others

f1gossip Trouble in paradise for Charles and Y/N? Charles Leclerc was spotted on a long walk on one of Monaco's more secluded islands with a mysterious brunette and his and Y/N's dog, Leo, this weekend. Sources say the pair were often looking to see if there were cameras around, the two of them giggling as they held hands and played with the puppy. Y/N L/N, Charles girlfriend of 2 years, is currently said to be on a trip home to see family, we wonder if the two have broken up or if Charles is back to his old ways?

fan f1gossip tagging charles is so shady i love it

fan when i catch you charles

fan no bc remember when a fan said they met y/n in her hometown and she was visiting her gran bc she's not doing too good? charles u fuckin suck bro ↳ fan wtf really???? oh i hope his tyres stick to the road next race ↳ fan kmag you know what you need to do ↳ fan we put our hopes and prayers in the paddock terror 🙏🙏

fan ok but the girls gorgeous ↳ fan THAT'S YOUR TAKEAWAY FROM THIS? ↳ fan im just saying damn

fan this is not what i meant when i said i wanted silly season to get more interesting

fan *looks around* wow i'm so surprised... not like charles has a bad rep with women or anything

fan i hope y/ns ok... my heart is hurting for her ↳ fan the paddock adore her, charles has got a big storm coming next week

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liked by kellypiquet, carmenmmundt and 25 others

y/npriv my gran is doing so much better (nothing can keep the old girl down), my hometown is still as gorgeous as always and my sister got me a cake :)

kellypiquet my girl :((( i'm so happy your grans ok 🤍 ↳ y/npriv thank u kelly bear 🤍 ↳ kellypiquet did i have to physically hold max back from going after he who shall not be named?? yes... did i consider letting go?? very much so ↳ y/npriv 😭😭 hes not voldemort babe 😭 you should have just let him go ↳ kellypiquet now is that really how you feel? ↳ y/npriv ... no but i wish i did ↳ maxverstappen1 she has to go to sleep at some point, then i shall be free ↳ y/npriv thats so ominous you strange creature (i appreciate you)

carmenmmundt me and george have been keeping your gran in our prayers angel 🩷 ↳ y/npriv i love you carm 🩷 ↳ georgerussell63 and me? ↳ y/npriv i tolerate you :)

flavy.barla esteban nearly joined max ↳ y/npriv love him dearly but este's about as intimidating as a teddy bear ↳ estebanocon ?? hey??? ↳ y/npriv sorry king xo there's a reason your nicknames estie bestie ↳ estebanocon let it DIEEEEE ↳ y/npriv never 🫶

schecoperez I am glad your gran is ok, y/n. Let me or Carola know if you need anything x ↳ y/npriv thank you checo :( give the little ones and carola a big hug from me x ♥️ schecoperez

lilyzneimer he shall d word at my hands ↳ y/npriv i fuckin love you lily

lewishamilton he will never know peace next year. ↳ lewishamilton i am however happy to hear your gran is well x ↳ y/npriv lewis 😭 thank you x

francisca.c.gomes pierre has been shouting at Him on the phone for like an hour... ↳ y/npriv 😭 ... what are they saying ↳ francisca.c.gomes a lot of french and things i don't want delicate eyes (yuki) to read... ↳ y/npriv pierre i appreciate you ↳ pierregasly i'm gonna kill him ↳ y/npriv ok maybe tone it down frenchie

lilymhe alex is setting his zoo on him ↳ y/npriv that's how you know it's serious wow ↳ alex_albon tinky's gonna boot him in the head

sebastianvettel i am very glad to hear your gran is ok, y/n, sending her and you all my love x ↳ y/npriv thank you seb :( miss you x ↳ sebastianvettel come and see us soon! the kids miss you x ↳ y/npriv you got it! x

danielricciardo he's a cunt ↳ danielricciardo and i don't mean that in a nice aussie way ↳ y/npriv DANIEL ↳ oscarpiastri no he's right, in the nasty aussie way, he's a cunt ↳ y/npriv oscar i did not raise you to talk like this ↳ oscarpiastri we are literally like 4 years apart in age... ↳ y/npriv kicking a girl when she's down WOW oscar ↳ oscarpiastri ... i am sorry mother dearest ↳ y/npriv that's better

carlossainz55 hermosa, he may be il predestinato but to me he is carne morta (dead meat) ↳ y/npriv carlos 😭 ↳ carlossainz55 also i'm glad to know your gran is well, send her my love ↳ y/npriv she already fancies you enough as it is ↳ carlossainz55 my plan is working :) ↳ y/npriv what plan? are you seducing my family members??? hiding my mum as we speak ↳ carlossainz55 something like that ;)

yukitsunoda0511 happy to see your gran is ok! and i am sorry about the other thing :((((( ↳ y/npriv yuki my angel you have nothing to be sorry about

kevinmagnussen i know what i have to do ↳ y/npriv kevin NO you're like 2 points away from a race ban!! ↳ kevinmagnussen worth it :) ↳ y/npriv nicohulkenburg pls talk some sense into your teammate ↳ nicohulkenburg unfortunately y/n i too will be joining kevin in his "defense" ↳ y/npriv haas i am so sorry

landonorris i may have done a thing... ↳ y/npriv i am terrified... ↳ landonorris i'll text you :)

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📍Monaco

👤 landonorris, carlossainz55, francisca.c.gomes, kellypiquet, lilymhe, lilynzeimer, flavy.barla, carmenmmundt liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 87,902 others

y/nstagram angel baby, dumb and dumber and my girls 🩷

Comments on this post have been limited

carlossainz55 ... am i dumb or dumber ↳ y/nstagram do you really want to know? 🤨 ↳ carlossainz55 for my own sanity im saying i'm dumb ↳ landonorris why am i dumber????? ↳ carlossainz55 do you really want to know? 🤨

carmenmmundt don't forget about lunch today xx ↳ y/nstagram been looking forward to it since i boarded the plane 🫶

landonorris you're welcome for the lift and the room btw 🙄 ↳ y/nstagram my saviour xx ↳ landonorris and for stealing leo for you ↳ y/nstagram I NEVER ASKED YOU TO STEAL HIM???? 😭 ↳ landonorris well i did because i'm an amazing friend and am willing to sacrifice all my bloody furniture ↳ y/nstagram you leave the baby alone, he was probably stressed :(

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FEBRUARY

(estrellita - little star) (uy, quécarechimba - ugh, that dickhead)

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📍Shanghai

👤 carlossainz55, landonorris liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 89,028 others

y/nstagram did y'all think i would miss the first race week?? ft dumber and roomie x

fan mother has returned!!!!! ♥️ y/nstagram

fan if looks could kill, carlos would be six feet under ... charles was FUMING ↳ fan given the way his girly hid when y/n appeared i would say he has no right to be mad at all ↳ fan if the girl i cheated on rocked up to my teammates garage whilst i was with my side piece i quite frankly would walk onto the track midrace ↳ fan how do we know charles cheated? they've not said anything ↳ fan exactly. if they had been broken up surely they would have put out some sort of announcement to clear things up ????

scuderiaferrari always good to see you in red, y/n ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE!!!!!! 🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎

carlossainz55 i hate this new nickname ↳ y/nstagram what else should i call you? ↳ carlossainz55 yours ↳ fan CARLOS I SAW THAT????????

landonorris i have been demoted from bestie to roomie... this is the thanks i get... ↳ y/nstagram thanks roomie xx btw bins go out on tuesday :)

lewishamilton now you're free of your ferrari obligations, you should come across to mercedes next time ;) ↳ mercedesamgf1 we would love to see you over here y/n! ↳ mclaren um no us next?? ↳ alpinef1team no us!!! ↳ redbullracing come to the winning team :) ↳ scuderiaferrari y/n will always be a ferrari girl, back OFF 🤺🤺🤺 ♥️ carlossainz55

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charles_leclerc added y/nstagram added to their story to their story

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liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 20 others

y/npriv that bitchass man... idk how he thought he was gonna spin that story but not on my watch

oscarpiastri did you really have to use my meme though? ↳ y/npriv yes it was funny and otherwise i was gonna call him a cheating lying bastard on main so 🤷🏻‍♀️ ↳ oscarpiastri understandable, please continue

danielricciardo lando was laughing so hard i think he bust a rib ↳ landonorris it still hurts to breathe but holy shit y/n i love u ↳ y/npriv love u too stink :) also don't forget to pick up leo's food from the shops ↳ landonorris you do know you can text me this stuff? ↳ y/npriv yeah but reminding everyone we're roomies is funny to me

maxverstappen1 walked past ferrari hospitality and fred was PISSED ↳ y/npriv 👀👀 carlossainz55 can you confirm? ↳ carlossainz55 oh, absolutely... i was worried he was going to have a heart attack or something

francisca.c.gomes ok but did he not even think to talk to you first before posting that? it's literally been months ↳ y/npriv apparently not 🙃 texted him about it and suddenly he was sorry ↳ francisca.c.gomes men 🙄 ↳ pierregasly ???? ↳ francisca.c.gomes i stand by what i said ↳ y/npriv yeah is there a problem gasly? ↳ pierregasly no problem at all ma'am, as you were

scuderiaferrari we had no knowledge charles was going to post that. we love you y/n ↳ danielricciardo FERRARI? why are you on y/ns priv? ↳ y/npriv me and the social media intern are besties xx

carlossainz55 estrellita, lets go for dinner, you deserve it ↳ y/npriv 👀 are you paying? ↳ carlossainz55 of course, i am a gentleman ↳ y/npriv pick me up in an hour :)

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liked by fan, fan and 40,718 others

f1gossip Carlos Sainz and Y/N L/N were spotted at dinner last night. The two enjoyed a meal before taking a stroll along the Monaco pier front where, as pictured, the pair were in high spirits. We're happy to see Y/N looking so happy following the revelation that her ex-boyfriend, and Carlos' current F1 teammate, had cheated on her. The two were then joined by Y/N's current roommate and F1 driver, Lando Norris, who then whisked them off to a local nightclub. We continue to send Y/N our support and hope to see more of her happy side.

fan i don't think i've ever seen y/n laugh like that, we love to see it

fan this coupled with the photos of charles and his girly arguing in the paddock 🤭🤭 we know who won the breakup

fan why do i kinda think carlos and y/n would be cute together ↳ fan woah, she's only been broken up with charles for a few months and under really shitty circumstances, she needs time to heal ↳ fan ofc ofc!!! i just mean when she's over ch*rles, the two would make a really good couple

fan happy y/n and happy carlos, my two favourite things ❤️

fan y/ncarlos fans we rise!!! ↳ fan he would treat her so right ↳ fan the entire time she dated That Man, carlos has always been so nice to her, i wonder if he secretly fancied her all along 👀 ↳ fan or maybe he's just a good guy ↳ fan that too 🤷🏻‍♀️

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APRIL

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📍 Australia

liked by y/nstagram, landonorris and 890,274 others

carlossainz55 swipe across to see me and oomf Another Carlando podium! We know what you guys wanna see and we love to deliver! The car drove like a dream today, shame we couldn't get more points but it's always nice to celebrate a great race with some champagne showers!

See 98,072 other comments

fan WHO TAUGHT CARLOS WHAT OOMF WAS??? ↳ fan either lando or y/n 100% 😭

fan CARLANDO PODIUM!!!!!!!!! WE DREAM OF DAYS LIKE THIS

y/nstagram FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE !!! 🐎🐎🐎🐎 congrats winner 🥳 ↳ carlossainz55 i think i was right when i said you would be my good luck charm 😉 ♥️ y/nstagram ↳ fan oh they're so sick for this ↳ fan y/ncarlos'ers we're so winning

charles_leclerc congrats ↳ fan ik for a fact he was forced to comment

landonorris carlando are back baby!! ↳ landonorris also cant believe im either oomf or roomie... ↳ y/nstagram stop leaving your smelly socks in the bathroom and maybe i'll change the nickname ↳ landonorris oh that was mean

fan "shame we couldn't get more points" carlos you shady shady man

fan who else cheered when kmag pulled through and took * out of the race

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liked by carlossainz55, francisca.c.gomes and 21 others

y/npriv oh we eating good tonight

kellypiquet i'm sure we are 👀 ↳ y/npriv KELLY???

landonorris carlos is so sexy ↳ y/npriv real ↳ landonorris back off my man??? ↳ carlossainz55 i'm gonna hold your hand when i say this lando... ↳ landonorris WOOOOOOW.... i see how it is carlos

carlossainz55 gorgeous as always ↳ y/npriv you can't even see my face in that photo carlos 🤣 ↳ carlossainz55 don't need to see you to know you're gorgeous ↳ maxverstappen1 i hate to say it but that was smooth ↳ danielricciardo they don't call him the smooth operator for no reason

scuderiaferrari power (soon to be (fingers crossed)) couple ↳ carlossainz55 😉 ↳ y/npriv not from the main acc damn

francisca.c.gomes need you biblically ↳ y/npriv come here then babe xx ↳ flavy.barla lemme join ↳ y/npriv i got two hands babygirl ↳ oscarpiastri estebanocon pierregasly you gonna let her snatch both your girls? ↳ estebanocon unfortunately there was a clause when they agreed to date us and it was that y/n is wifey, we are simply the Others ↳ pierregasly ^^

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liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe and 25 others

y/npriv decided to put him out of his misery :)

carlossainz55 and who is that sexy man? ↳ y/npriv idk but he keeps speaking spanish to me even though he knows i dont understand it 🙄 ↳ carlossainz55 but do you like it? 👀 ↳ y/npriv i think you know i do x

francisca.c.gomes AND YOU DIDNT UPDATE THE GROUPCHAT??????? ↳ lilymhe FR!!!! I LITERALLY SAID TELL US AFTER YOU KISS HIM ↳ y/npriv SHUT UP RN ↳ carlossainz55 no do go on ↳ lilymhe what happens in the y/n gf's gc, stays in the y/n gf's gc

carlossainz55 estás muy guapa, vuelve a la cama cariño ❤️ (you look so pretty, come back to bed sweetheart) ↳ maxverstappen1 we have the translate function on ig you horndog ↳ y/npriv don't be mad i snatched ur man ↳ maxverstappen1 ... he'll never forget the redbull days

landonorris RUE WHEN WAS THIS?????? ↳ y/npriv hiiiii lando... um so.... 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️ ↳ landonorris GET BACK HERE U RAT EXPLAIN YOURSELF ↳ landonorris carlossainz55 WHAT ARE U DOING WITH MY ROOMIE ???? ↳ carlossainz55 i mean i could tell you but instagram does have guidelines ↳ landonorris ew ew ew that's so gross i dont even wanna know ↳ landonorris happy for you guys or whatever but ew never tell me anything remotely sexual about y/n or i will vom ↳ y/npriv lando wtf???? ↳ landonorris you're like my annoying sister i'd have to remove my skinsuit if carlos opens his fat mouth ↳ carlossainz55 hey? ↳ y/npriv you're so fuckin weird ily

danielricciardo HE SHOOTS, HE SCORES!!!! ↳ carlossainz55 you were right, they don't call me the smooth operator for no reason ↳ y/npriv you were literally giggling and kicking your feet after i kissed you ↳ carlossainz55 y/n :(((( my reputation :((((((

lilyzneimer wait do was taking the photos? ↳ y/npriv ... self timer ↳ lilyzneimer down horrifically bad wow

scuderiaferrari OH Y/NCARLOS'ERS WE WON!!!!! ↳ y/npriv admin 😭 not u too ↳ scuderiaferrari not even sorry i've been WAITING for this one!!!

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liked by francisca.c.gomes, fan and 30,892 others

f1gossip A surprise twist in the Charles and Y/N drama? Following Sainz's back to back victory in Australia and then Silverstone, Y/N and Carlos shared what looks like a loving kiss. Eagle eyed fans then spotted Charles on camera arguing with a Ferrari employee in the garages following the Y/NCarlos moment. Finally, Carlos was spotted outside where he was soon joined by Y/N, the two leaving the circuit hand in hand. It is noted Charles' new beau was nowhere to be seen.

fan Y/NCARLOS'ERS WE SO WON!!!! ♥️ 10,829 others

fan she upgraded wowow

fan charles throwing a hissy fit was so funny i was cackling watching it

fan kika in the likes... what do you know queen? ♥️ francisca.c.gomes

user not her being a homie hopper 🤢 ↳ carlossainz55 can't be a homie hopper if we're not homies :) ↳ fan CARLOS????? ↳ fan oh he ate them up ↳ fan carlos has not been fucking with ch*rles for a WHILE, even before all the drama

fan y/n's face... she looked so happy my heart is so full ❤️

fan queen y/n we trust your judgement

fan ik the entire grid is cheering rn

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📍 England

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 105,018 others

y/nstagram carlando podium again!!! anything else interesting happen at Silverstone? :)

fan the carlando bears 😭 her boyfriend(?) and bestie 😭 ↳ landonorris roomie* ↳ y/nstagram you love me shut up

fan she's so unbothered im giggling

francisca.c.gomes the last slide... ↳ y/nstagram don't worry baby, he was just dropping me off for our date x ↳ carlossainz55 all i am to you is a glorified taxi driver

landonorris couldn't even post a photo of me for my podium... see how it is ↳ y/nstagram don't want your ugly mug messing up my feed ↳ y/nstagram also grey bin needs to go out on tuesday ↳ landonorris you're on bin duty this week? ↳ y/nstagram actually i'm gonna be on a boat in spain soooo ↳ landonorris i hope y'all break up ↳ fan LANDO ? ↳ y/nstagram he's joking dw he did the whole "big brother" speech with carlos, was kinda funny knowing carlos would flatten him in 2 seconds flat ↳ landonorris oh now i really hope y'all break up

fan y/n please we know you have bf carlos pics... i only ask for one thing ↳ y/nstagram i'll post some soon x ↳ fan the most unserious soft/hard launch

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👤 carlossainz55 liked by carlossainz55, lilyzneimer and 98,017 others

y/nstagram my boyfriends so hot, do you guys mind if i chew on him a lil?

carlossainz55 please don't chew me??? ↳ y/nstagram it's internet sla- never mind, ok mr sainz

fan her captions are always so real i love her

fan unhinged y/n is back, we missed you best friend ♥️ y/nstagram

scuderiaferrari HARD LAUNCH HARD LAUNCH HARD LAUNCH LETS GO Y/NCARLOS'ERS!!!! ↳ y/nstagram i love u admin ❤️ ↳ scuderiaferrari our ferrari girl, forever ❤️

landonorris i hate this ↳ fan your ex and your roomie 😔 ↳ landonorris you get it 😔 ↳ carlossainz55 stop calling me your ex 🙄 ↳ landonorris you dare deny the love we shared?

francisca.c.gomes never mind him, can i chew on you a lil? ↳ kellypiquet ^ ↳ lilymhe ^ ↳ lilyzneimer ^ ↳ flavy.barla ^ ↳ carmenmmundt ^ ↳ y/nstagram everyone grab a limb x ↳ carlossainz55 please don't chew my girlfriend

fan thank you for the pic y/n! sorry for interrupting your holiday 🥺 ↳ y/nstagram don't be silly!! it was lovely to meet you <333 dont forget to send me the link to the dress!! ↳ fan on it!! ↳ fan omg how was it meeting them? ↳ fan they're honestly so sweet, they were just holding hands and walking around and carlos was yapping away and the way y/n was looking at him 🥺 they're endgame fr ↳ fan could actually cry?? ↳ fan also when they were on the beach, carlos twirled her around and they started dancing to the music playing from a nearby bar... it was actually like a movie scene 😭😭

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👤 y/nstagram liked by y/nstagram, scuderiaferrari and 505,287 others

carlossainz55 dicen que ver una estrella fugaz da buena suerte, y tenían razón, mi estrellita ❤️ (they say seeing a shooting star is good luck, and they were right, my little star)

See 198,017 other comments

francisca.c.gomes that first picture... i love my girlfriend ↳ carlossainz55 can't even have peace on my own hard launch ↳ francisca.c.gomes you snatched y/n from her girlfriends, you will never know peace.

fan he bagged a baddie wowow

fan the caption??? oh hes in LOVE ♥️ carlossainz55

y/nstagram 🥺 carlos..i'm so grateful to have you in my life ❤️ ↳ carlossainz55 i am the one who's grateful ❤️

scuderiaferrari heyyy y/n *with rizz* ↳ carlossainz55 even my own teams admin wow... ↳ scuderiaferrari not my fault your girlfriends hot

user homie hopper ↳ carlossainz55 eat glass :) ↳ y/nstagram CARLOS ↳ scuderiaferrari we love that you're happy but please carlos this is still your official account

lilymhe y/n i could treat you so much better ↳ carlossainz55 back off i've waited years for this ↳ y/nstagram YEARS??? ↳ carlossainz55... 🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️ ↳ y/nstagram you're literally sat right next to me ... ↳ y/nstagram he just got up and ran away... ↳ fan this is so fucking funny sddjsdhdk ↳ landonorris danielricciardo what was that about him being a smooth operator? ↳ danielricciardo hes also fucking dumb

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a/n: hope everyone enjoys! i am working hard on part 2 of girlfriend of the enemy so we can have some happy charles <3 also 2-3 posts in one week who AM I? (i'm gonna be busy w work so i'm trying to give u guys some food in case i have to disappear)

[harrysfolklore]

i’ve always loved the piastri sis lore because the sibling dynamic is so healthy but just to switch it up a little bit in the tiny verstappen!sis universe i can imagine her skipping out on the WDC celebrations with max and be with charles instead and max is a little mad at her at qatar until kelly knocks sense into him 🥰

verstappen!sister was one of the first f1 fics i ever posted 🥺🥺 its kinda heartwarming that you guys still remember it and want to read more about them! it was nice to take a dip into that little world agai, i hope you like this!

READ VERSTAPPEN!YN HERE

The neon lights of Las Vegas blurred through as you rushed through the paddock, your heart torn between two directions. Behind you, the thunderous celebration at Red Bull's garage continued – your brother Max had just sealed his fourth world championship. Any other day, you'd be right there, spraying champagne and screaming until your voice gave out.

But right now, all you could think about was Charles.

You found him in the Ferrari cooldown room, still in his race suit, head in his hands. He looked up when you entered, those green eyes stormy with frustration.

"Mon coeur," he whispered, and despite his evident pain, his lips curved into a small smile at the sight of you. "You're here."

You crossed the room quickly, wrapping your arms around him. He buried his face in your neck, breathing deeply. "Of course I'm here. Always."

"I had it," he mumbled against your skin. "I had the pace, the position... everything. Then they called me in at the worst possible moment—" His voice cracked slightly.

You ran your fingers through his hair soothingly. "I know, baby. I watched the whole thing."

Charles pulled back slightly, cupping your face with both hands. "You should be celebrating with Max, though. It's his championship. I don't want to take you away from that."

"You're not taking me anywhere," you said firmly, pressing your forehead to his. "I choose to be here."

He kissed you softly, gratefully. "Je t'aime. What did I do to deserve you?"

"Existed," you smiled against his lips. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

As you were leaving the cooldown room, hand in hand with Charles, you nearly collided with Max in the corridor. Your brother was still in his race suit, championship cap askew, smelling of champagne and victory.

"YN?" His voice was smaller than usual. "Where were you? Everyone was asking... we were all celebrating and you just disappeared."

Guilt twisted in your stomach. "Max, I'm so sorry, I—"

"She was with me," Charles said quietly, squeezing your hand.

Max's face fell slightly, though he tried to hide it. "Oh." He looked between you both, jaw working like he was trying to find the right words. "I thought... it's the championship, YN. Our fourth championship."

"I know," you said, stepping forward to hug him tightly. "And I'm so, so proud of you. You were incredible out there. But Charles needed me."

Max returned the hug, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders. When he pulled back, his expression was complicated – hurt mixed with resignation.

"Sure, whatever. Stay with your boyfriend." He shook his head, jaw clenched. "It's fine. Not like it's my fourth world championship or anything."

The sarcasm in his voice cut deep. Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you and Charles standing in the corridor.

The next morning, you found Max in the hotel gym, pounding away at a treadmill despite probably being hungover from the celebrations. You knew your brother well enough to recognize when he was working out his frustrations physically.

"Max," you called out softly.

He didn't look at you, just kept running. "Shouldn't you be with Charles?"

"Can we talk? Please?"

He jabbed at the treadmill controls, slowing to a stop. When he finally turned to face you, his expression was guarded. "About what? About how you ditched your own brother's championship celebration to comfort your boyfriend? Because he finished P4?" He grabbed his towel, wiping his face roughly. "Real nice, sister."

"That's not fair and you know it."

"Kelly already gave me the whole speech last night, you know," he said, "Something about 'understanding love' and 'being supportive' and how she'd do the same for me."

"And?"

"And I told her she's supposed to be on my side," he said, but there was less heat in his voice than before. "She just laughed at me."

You sat down on a nearby bench, and after a moment, he joined you. "I'm still mad," he admitted. "And it's still weird as hell that my sister is dating Charles bloody Leclerc of all people."

"Could be worse," you tried. "Could've been Lewis."

"Don't even joke about that," he groaned, but you caught the tiny smile he tried to hide. His face turned serious again. "Kelly made some good points though. About how she'd choose to be with me if I was struggling after a race, even if it meant missing something important. Still doesn't mean I like it."

"I really am sorry about disappearing like that."

"I wanted my sister there," Max's voice cracked slightly. "You've been there for every important moment in my career. Every single one. Until yesterday. It's like ever since you started dating him, I'm losing my little sister bit by bit."

"You're not losing me, Max. You're my brother, nothing will ever change that. But Charles...I love him."

Max was quiet for a long moment. "You really love him that much? It's that serious?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "It is."

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "I still don't like it. And I'm still mad about yesterday." He paused, then added grudgingly, "But I guess I need to get used to sharing you. Just... don't disappear on me like that again, okay? I had to listen to Helmut asking if you were sick or something. Do you know how awkward it was explaining that my sister was too busy consoling a Ferrari driver to celebrate with us?"

"Did you actually tell him that?"

"No, I told him you had a headache. You're welcome, by the way." He paused. "But seriously, YN. I get that you love him or whatever—" he made a face at the words, "—but you're still my sister."

"And you're still my annoying big brother," you leaned against his shoulder. "So... fourth championship, huh? Getting a bit boring now, isn't it?"

"Never," he grinned, then added more seriously, "Would've been better with you there though."

"I'll make it up to you. Plus, there's still family dinner tonight."

"Yeah, about that..." Max's expression turned mischievous. "I might have told Mom to make that really spicy Indonesian dish Charles couldn't handle last time."

"Max!"

"What? If he's going to be family, he needs to build up his tolerance," he said innocently. "Besides, it's payback for making me miss my sister at my championship celebration."

"You're impossible."

"Yeah, but I'm a four-time world champion impossible brother," he smirked, pulling you into a headlock like when you were kids. "And don't you forget it."

[coco-loco-nut]

loml part 2

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: it’s time for you to finally have some happiness, even if you’ve sworn off drivers

part one masterlist ttpd masterlist

——————

A year after the break up, you are still living in George’s Monaco apartment. You keep to yourself, sticking to a simple routine and avoiding Formula One when you can. You could’ve gotten your own apartment with the divorce settlement and your job salary, but George insisted that you take care of the apartment for him.

George and Carmen were with you every step of the way, helping you pick up the pieces and bringing you back to as close to normal as you can.

“I’m done with drivers, I will never date one ever again,” you tell George one afternoon. George was almost offended but you added on the second half.

You go out for a run like you do every morning before work, and on your way home you stop in a bakery you’ve been eyeing. After placing your coffee and pasty order, you accidentally bump into someone.

“I am so sorry, I- Charles. Hi,” you look at the equally stunned man.

“Hi, how are you doing,” Charles says gently, sounding concerned. That isn’t what you expected out of your ex’s friend.

“Better, how’s, um, how is he?” you ask a little bitterly, internally cringing at the clear discomfort on Charles’s face. His name is called alongside yours, so he picks it up and sets it on a table, silently inviting you to join him, and you do.

“I don’t know. After the whole Kelly thing, I argued with him and we haven’t really talked since,” Charles admits, you look stunned.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you can’t really hide your bitter expression as the thought of Kelly runs through your mind. Not even a month after you separated, Max was off playing happy family with his new girlfriend. Your divorce wasn’t even legalized yet.

“I’m not. He lost someone incredible just because he wasn’t willing to put in the work for a good and healthy relationship,” Charles looks you in the eyes. You finish your pastry and process his words and his underlying meaning.

“Charles, everything is still so fresh, I don’t know,” you look out at the streets. You couldn’t deny he was attractive, but you didn’t want to reinvolve yourself with Formula One.

“One date, we can take it as slow as you want to. I know it must be hard, but you deserve to be happy,” Charles reaches out and touches your hand gently.

“I have to get to work. You should have my number, Charles,” you softly smile, leaving the cafe. Charles lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Naturally, he asked George for permission first. He knew George was acting as your overprotective brother, and George knew you better than anyone at the moment. Despite you swearing off drivers, George felt that Charles might be what you need.

The first date goes well, and so does the second, and the third. Charles prioritized privacy, and you were grateful. He shows up to your door for the fourth with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, ones that Max always forgot to get. He always gave you chrysanthemums, fitting that he would choose a funeral flower seeing as how he killed the relationship.

“Cheri, are you okay?” Charles asks, seeing you tear up a little.

“Max never did this, and when he did they were always the wrong flowers,” you shake you head slightly, fending off the anger and sadness.

“Well, if he wanted to treat your right, he would. I want to treat you right,” Charles presses a kiss to your head. You invite him in while you find a vase to put the flowers in.

“I want that,” you tell him, his hands find yours.

“Be my girlfriend?” Charles asks, you nod happily.

“There is this restaurant that I’ve been wanting to try, down the street. Maybe I can take my boyfriend there,” you smile, heart racing.

“Lead the way, mon cœur,” Charles tells you. You lock the apartment behind you and take his hand as you lead him down the street to a restaurant that opened a couple months ago. The two of you are so caught up in each other, you don’t notice the table across the restaurant.

Max watches you walk into the restaurant, hand in hand with Charles - the guy who used to be one of his closest friends. You look stunning, and happier than you were the last few months before the separation. Of course Max saw you for divorce meetings, but this is different.

“Max is here,” you quietly tell Charles.

“Don’t worry about him, he won’t cause a scene,” Charles reassures you, knowing his old friend. You are grateful for the man sitting across from you.

“What did I do to deserve you?” you ask, causing Charles’s hear to soar. can’t believe he is finally happy.

Charles is by your side during the rough days, especially the day that should’ve been your wedding anniversary with Max. You couldn’t help but to be upset, and healing takes time. Charles didn’t push you to do anything, he just kept you company and followed your lead.

When you were together for six months, you felt comfortable enough to reintroduce yourself to Charles’s friends and family. It helps that the two of you adopted a dog.

“These are my sons, Ollie and Oscar,” Charles tells you as you stand in the kitchen, watching over the dinner you had been working on. He would’ve invited Liam, but that would be awkward for everyone.

“It’s lovely to meet you, I’m Y/n. I suspect you know Leo from social media. Would either of you like wine, or anything from the fridge? Please, help yourself,” you stop yourself from fussing. Charles recognizes it as your hormones kicking in, making you fuss over them.

“Thank you, need any help?” Ollie asks as Oscar plays with Leo.

“Thank you, but you are a guest. I couldn’t let you. Now, I think Charles has a really expensive bottle that will pair well with this meal, let me grab it and pour a couple glasses,” you wink.

“Only the best for you and the kids, Cheri,” Charles yells from the dining room where he is setting the table. Ollie takes the glass you poured for him, he wouldn’t mind you being his grid mom.

“Charles, come help me bring food in while the boys sit down,” you tell him, giving Oscar and Ollie a little glare when the move to help you.

“Of course, mon cœur,” Charles smiles, carrying the heavier plates in while you grab the wine bottle and the two empty glasses for you and Charles.

The two boys try to make sure they don’t come off as interrogating you, but you don’t mind. They are avoiding the elephant in the room, and both you and Charles know it.

“You can ask, I don’t mind,” you say gently, knowing it’s eating Oscar alive. He’s like you and George if you two had an idgaf attitude.

“Is it true that you and Max, um,” Oscar pauses looking for the words.

“Yeah, he’s my ex-husband. He did me a favor though, without him I wouldn’t be with Charlie,” you look adoringly at your boyfriend.

“Ask George and Carmen, they will give you the best version of the story,” Charles laughs and so do you.

“This is really good, I might need you to cook after races for me,” Ollie changes to topic, groaning a little at how full he is.

“She’s our mom, of course it’s good,” Oscar replies, you can’t fight the grin on your face.

“Of course I will. I can send some frozen meals for you to heat up along to the with Charles,” you tell them.

“Or you could come to the races and keep me company,” Ollie says, looking at you hopefully. You are one hundred percent adopting him. Charles looks at you a little panicked, you never really talked about being in the paddock as his girlfriend. Of course, he has publicly talked about how he has a girlfriend who he adores, but no one knows it’s you, except for a few people.

Max never told anyone about your relationship, despite him seeing your date and reporters asking him about you. It would be an asshole thing to do after he moved on so quick, and you deserved better than what he had done to you already.

“I’d love to, but don’t regret it when you are being mothered,” you point your fork at them.

“Wait, why only Ferrari,” Oscar pouts.

“I can visit you too, I’ll even bring cookies,” you tell Oscar. He pumps his fist in celebration.

Charles is happy to hear you are okay going to races again. You have to be a little stealthy about it at the start. You go the first couple times as George’s guest, and slowly increase how long you are with Charles each time.

Things change when you miss your period. You and Charles have always been very careful, but there have been a couple time that you forgot a condom.

“What does it say, mon cœur?” Charles sits beside you in bed, rubbing soft circles on your shoulder. You take a shakey breath and turn the stick over, ready to be shown another negative.

“Positive, I’m pregnant. I thought I couldn’t have kids,” you feel Charles brush tears from your cheeks.

“We will be the best parents, I’m so happy,”he reassures you, and you can see how happy he is. From then on you go as Charles’s partner, Ollie is happy to have you with him in the garage, and even accompanies you to visit Oscar. Ollie claimed it was to protect you and the baby against Max, but that doesn’t work when Max is talking to Lando at the same time you visit Oscar.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Max asks a little hesitatily.

“I’m really well, how are you?” you ask, pushing down the bitter parts of you. You truly are very happy now.

“I’m okay. Do you think we could talk at some point this weekend? I think it’s been long enough and you deserve closure for yourself,” Max scratches the back of his head.

“Message me on Instagram. We can find a time,” you agree, needing to get a couple things off your chest. That time is the next morning in an open room in Red Bull hospitality.

“You wanted to talk,” you say as you sit down across from Max. Charles was apprehensive when you told him of your plan, but he trusted you and was supportive of your choice.

“I wanted to apologize for how I treated you at the end, it was unfair to you,” Max tells you, clearly pushing through his pride. “So, I’m sorry. I can’t say it’s easy seeing you happy with someone who isn’t me. Are you happy?” Max asks, needing to know.

“Of course I am. It was really hard to move on. Charlie makes me extremely happy, and he’s given me the greatest gift I could ask for,” you smile, subconsciously putting a hand on your stomach. Max feels his stomach swirl with jealousy. Charles is living the life he should be living, Charles is doing everything he should be doing for you, but he fucked it all up.

“I, uh, wow. Congratulations, I know how much you wanted a kid. I’m happy for you, schatje,” Max says, pushing down his jealousy. It’s his fault he lost you, now he has to live with the consequences and be mature about it. Maybe if he hadn’t gotten with Kelly so soon he would be with you, but it’s too late now.

Max did try. He constantly asked George where you were, or to convince you to talk to him. George was protective though, he saw how hurt you were and knew you needed to heal on your own time. So he did what any overprotective best friend would do, talk reasonably and show Max why he needed to stay away.

“Thanks, Maxie, that means a lot,” Maxie, a dagger through Max’s heart. “I can’t be friends with you right now, but maybe someday. I like this version of you, maybe Kelly was the right one for you after all,” you can see the pain in Max’s somber eyes, the same one you see from the end of your relationship, and the same one that haunts you.

“I really am sorry,” Max’s voice cracks. “You’re the love and loss of my life,” tears well in his eyes as he looks at you.

“You’re the loss of mine as well,” you stand up and move towards him, pulling him into a hug. “You are going to be okay, Max. We weren’t right for each other, but now you can move on,” you say softly. In your heart you can feel the closure you’ve needed. Max felt it too, and when the day came, he would be ready to be a good friend.

Until that day, he is publicly supportive of your family with Charles. Max repairs his relationship with Charles first, then he slowly repairs it with you. When Julianna Herveline Leclerc graced the world, he was one of the first people to send a gift and well wishes. And when you and Charles finally make it to the alter, Max is standing beside Charles, happy to support the two of you.

[leclsrc]

in so deep ✴︎ cl16

genre: friends to lovers, charles has a huge crush and is a lovesick bloke, smut, humor, Fluff 

word count: 13.1k  

It takes you many cities, a botched Halloween costume and a failed break-in to realize how much Charles likes you. It takes Charles several years to realize he doesn’t need to do much to have you like him back. title from this

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... penetrative sex, praise central, size kink, unprotected sex

auds here… thank u for all ur love during my periods of being awol .... i wrote this over the course of a week and i hope u all like it!!! its very much a self indulgent thing... :P

The first time Charles realized he liked you, you were both posed for a picture.

It happened at a dinner party in London, in late autumn, thrown by you to celebrate your first year on the paddock as a reporter. Few friends had been invited but, with how noisy everyone was and with the ease of conversation, it felt like a houseful of people in your narrow dining area. Lando was in front of the mirror, tipsy, demonstrating his best rendition of an Irish accent to a genuinely interested Alex and Lily. 

Max was playing with your pet cat, Gene Kelly, and mentally plotting a heist to sneak him out with Pierre’s help. Your boyfriend, Liam, was making himself a cocktail. And Lewis had been roaming around with a glass of dry wine and his brand new film camera to document the night’s festivities—but the host was nowhere to be found. Unbeknownst to everyone, full off dinner and tipsy off cocktails, you’d ducked into the balcony to find where Charles had run off to for the night.

The music was muffled when you shut the door, leaving it ajar just a little bit. Lissie had played Cocteau Twins and was singing whatever gibberish lyrics played, fully drunk off a bottle of Tito’s. Still laughing over her predicament, you turned to Charles and refocused your attention on him. Is it boring?

What w… what is? He asked, turning to you. Briefly his eyes flitted to your hand, the bracelets clasped onto your wrist. He noticed you held matching bottles of beer but yours remained full, nail tapping idly on the semi-opaque glass.

My party, you responded wryly, cocking your head to the side. A loose tendril of hair fell over your eye and he itched to tuck it back in place, thumb over your ear. You continued, still pressing for an answer. You left to smoke but you didn’t come back. 

I like the view. A half-lie but truthful in some way. He squinted to try and make out blurry, faraway signage. I should move here. Monaco makes me sick. He tried to say it jokingly, but was betrayed by the raw tone of his voice. You hummed quietly, to signify you were listening.

So move. Who’s stopping you? You smiled slightly. Aside from your ludicrous career, of course. 

You had a natural disposition of—something. He didn’t quite know how to describe it, almost like the rest of him had yet to catch up with something only his heart was already decided on. You spoke and acted with some kind of smoothness that only the most popular kids in secondary school could have reins over, but you always claimed you weren’t very popular in your teenage years. He just knew he liked hearing you talk, watching you smile. He felt something—but he didn’t want to name it even if he knew exactly what it was. Instead he played into your joke. Yeah, I’ve been told I should move to Dubai instead, become a prince.

You laughed aloud. You are terribly unfunny, you know that?

Am I? He asked. Just then, as the cotton of his tee brushed against your bare shoulder, Liam brashly tugged the balcony door open to find you. He had this drunk smile on his face, brushing his blond hair out of the way and raising a Leica to the two of you.

Hey, I got Lewis’ camera. Smile, Liam had said, eyes squinted behind it. You remained still, half-turned to the camera, and Charles gave a smile whereas you remained in a neutral, half-smiling pose. And right there, at that very moment, as a giggle escaped your lips from having to pose so quickly and even awkwardly, Charles realized with a damning force that he had a massive crush on you.

Liam had left shortly after to resume taking pictures, but would later confront you over your “weird, odd, fucking closeness with the Monegasque bloke” that you would vehemently deny despite a gut-churning feeling boiling low in your stomach. But that’s later. Your conversation continued calmly, along the passive whir of London and the streets below. You both people-watched as you thought of things to say—finally Charles said, Are you interviewing me next weekend?

I always try to get out of it when it’s with you. You rolled your eyes, feigning irritance, then smiled to break the illusion. I think so.

I’ll make sure I have good answers. You’re too smart. Hurts to be in the same room. 

Like you aren’t, you said back, but the rebuttal is shy in nature, like he struck you with a compliment so high you couldn’t bear to return it. He felt then like this was the kind of moment where you would start holding hands any minute, timid touches between clinks of bottles. He remembered Liam existed and screwed his eyes shut. He wished so hard to be able to kiss you. Abandon all sense and just kiss you.

—

“It’s 2023 and still London has the most rubbish ass, fucking cunt, stupid wanker stoplights,” Lissie huffs beside you, checking her watch. “Right then. We’re going to be late. You know how Lando is when people are late. Especially because this is his event.”

“We’re not people to Lando,” you reason, tapping the steering wheel. The ETA on your navigation app tells you you’re still twenty minutes away. “We’re his best friends. If he can’t forgive us, we should kick him out of the group chat.”

“Ooh, and add Alex,” Lily pipes up from the backseat, where she’s redoing her eyeshadow to pass the time. “I keep telling you guys he’s funnier than Lando.” Both you and Lissie make faint, vague sounds of dissent and she grunts again, deflating.

“No boyfriends in the group chat,” Lissie repeats an age-old rule that’s been around for as long as you three (four, including Lando) have been friends. “Or girlfriends, in Lando’s case, but we haven’t worried about that much, have we?”

You’re all en route to watch Lando crank out a brand-new deejay set, one he’s spent the summer break working on. It’s all house and inspired by beach music, and he’s very proud of it, so of course you’re all showing up to laud him. You’re not the only ones, though, apparently—whoever’s in the city is showing up to show their support, which includes a whole stretch of drivers.

“Oh, my God!” Lily says all of a sudden, eyes wide at something on her phone; you both gesture for her to show you and she does with speed. “Do you guys remember this? God, Instagram archives are a godsend.”

“Your dinner party in Chelsea!” Lissie coos, immediately sidling into a fond awwww! You tap at the story Lily had then posted: a video of everybody eating. You tap again to view the one she posted a few days later, which was a collage of Lewis’ camera scans he’d gotten developed overnight. There in the upper right corner, you almost immediately spot your photo with Charles.

“Oh, Christ, that picture.” Memories of your subsequent arguments with Liam flash past your head. Playfully, all you say is, “And I never had a boyfriend again.”

“Liam was an Irish arse, anyway.” Lissie scoffs. “Nobody liked him. Lewis joked about cleaning his camera after he used it that night. Plus, you actively avoid dating, so don’t complain.”

“Fair,” you say with a slight smile. Your mind lingers on the picture, the imprint of it burned fresh into your mind. 

“You—it’s also because you can’t take a hint, babe.” Lily says matter-of-factly. “Who knows how many guys have, you know… fancied, or, like, had crushes on you, and you just never knew?”

“Are you saying somebody fancies me?” You ask, voice whittling out playfully as your eyes count down the seconds to the green light.

Funnily, silence is all that answers. Beside you, Lily and Lissie exchange a look—one that communicates their years-long amusement over your cluelessness. You whirl back to them, eyebrows raised, and double down: “Wait. Does somebody fancy me?”

“No!” Lily ekes out; you don’t miss Lissie’s poorly-hidden laugh. “No. I’m just—it’s just—no.” 

Truth is, it truly seems like the only person in the entire paddock (team and Sky Sports staff included) who hasn’t caught on to a certain somebody’s boyish crush is the crush herself, oblivious as ever, even years and years later. One might think you’d have realized eventually, but perhaps owed to your type A personality and immersion with work, and Charles’ pathetic and total inability to express how much he likes you, the crush has always remained just that, despite your two friend groups’ best efforts to hint at it.

It wasn’t to say, though, that you didn’t sometimes entertain the idea of liking him, too. On that one rainy race weekend when he’d brought you a plastic cup of soup, and embarrassed, laughed sheepishly at Lissie’s joking request for one; then returned twenty minutes later with soup for everyone in the media pen. Or that time in Monaco where he’d pretended to be your boyfriend at a bar to ward off a creepo from hitting on you any further. Or another time, in Budapest, when he’d drank half his body weight in jello shots and slurred out a goofy, heavy I’m soooo sorry, baby while you helped him into the passenger seat of his car.

That one, singular time in Cancun you told your friends once and never again.

But those are isolated incidents, you suppose; plus, dating someone you work with has never seemed like a remotely good idea to you, and you don’t think it ever will.

For all your thinking on the topic, you fail to realize that you don’t know much at all—you don’t know the fact that Charles has liked you for years, after getting to know just how charming and funny you were as a friend. You don’t know that he still gets gut-churning butterflies when he sees you, hands shaky and face tinged pink. You miss the fact that he’s not had any long-term partners in the years of his liking you. You don’t know anything. 

“Don’t lie.” You narrow your eyes as you rev the car and continue the trip. 

“We’re not,” Lily says loudly and a touch too defensively, crossing her fingers. Quietly, she continues, “You should just pay more attention.”

Whatever she meant to say is lost on you as soon as you make a left and spot the club Lando’s at, already teeming with high-profile guests and their high-profile cars. Half an hour later you’re in—valet and being on the guest list effectively cuts your entrance time in half. You separate at the entrance—you, to find Lando; your two girls, to find your reserved table. You find him eventually, busy behind the booth churning out high-frequency tropical music; he pauses for half a beat to flash a huge grin and a thumbs-up before redirecting his attention to the knobs and sliders you can’t seem to guess the functions of.

These kinds of parties are affairs in and of themselves. They mimic the afterparties during the season—nothing if not shows of opulence and networking: champagne paid for by business magnates, yachts that barely make dents in anybody’s wallets, thick CVs, fruity cocktails spilled on pieces of clothing that cost upward of 3000 pounds. You make eye contact with at least seven skeevy businessmen before you spot your friends, but only because you hear them first—by them you mean Lissie, her loud voice raised even more to match the noise at this club.

“I said I didn’t fu���ugh—I don’t want ye fahkin’ champagne,” she slurs out to an old man in a pressed suit, eyebrows knitted angrily. “Got it?!” Behind her, Lily and Alex (who’s arrived now, apparently) watch, concerned and helpless to stop her but equally (perhaps more) entertained.

You step closer and make a move to calm down the exchange taking place, but somebody whispers a “hey” in your ear and startles you. You turn, and come face to face with Charles. His black tee accentuates the breadth of his shoulders, which you connect to his crossed arms; there’s a shy, boyish grin playing on his face. “Oh, Charles!” You smile. “Hey! Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Thanks,” he says with a grin, straining to raise his voice. “You look—you look well. Are you alone?”

“No, I’m—” You turn to your three friends nearby, and to Lissie’s argument heating up. “I actually have to go.” You raise your thumb, jabbing it toward them. “But hi again… again!” You both laugh, but he laughs much louder. “I’ll see you around.”

“I jus—” He says, and you stick around for a second to hear him say what he has to say.

“Yeah?”

He clears his throat and laughs stiffly, abandoning his previous statement in favor of a new one. “I just…. want… to have a great time.”

“Ohhhh,” you holler, nodding, clearly trying to mask your extreme confusion under a polite smile. “Okay, well… go ahead!”

You smooth down your dress and laugh again, evidently more forced but, unfortunately for Charles, not any less pretty.

You carry yourself in a very pretty, graceful way, loud and quiet at the same time, like your confident voice when you’re holding the mic and asking questions or making drivers laugh. He might sound creepy, though, a touch too observant, if he tells you so. He observes you instead, for a second, the low cut of your dress and the way the red overhead light shines on your exposed collarbones—and then you’re leaving. He watches you walk over to hug Lily, realizes how stupid he’s sounded, and smothers a hand over his face, humiliated. 

—

“I just want to have a great time?” Max’s jaw drops and he shakes his head, disappointed above all else. “Charles, what the actual. Like…. fuck?” They’re all camped out at the latter’s hotel room, around the dining table, in varying states of sober and doing different things to wear off the last hour of the night before they’re all due to train or debrief again in the morning. Charles had relayed the disaster of the night to everyone at some point, but Max is the last to hear of it; this, unfortunately, does not inoculate him from the shock and secondhand embarrassment.

“Pierre told me to—” Charles starts, forlorn.

“Oi, no. I told you to say something like I just wish… I’d seen you sooner,” interjects the Frenchman with a tut. “You know, flirting? Not… whatever the fuck you said.”

“I didn’t—I was—I lost my mind,” he groans, burying his head in his hands. It couldn’t possibly be entirely his fault when you looked so pretty tonight, hair down and a wash of glitter on your eyelids. Just subtle little flecks of them. They brought out your eyes, too. And your blush, the pink flush of it that sat high on your cheekbones.

“…llo? Charles.” He blinks and sees Carlos’ deep eyes, wide and staring right at him, so pointedly he’s genuinely startled.

“Jeeesus fucking Christ. What?” He places a melodramatic hand over his chest. “Yeah?”

“What do you mean with the”—Carlos mimics his confused expression—“I asked you a question, tonto.” 

“Don’t bother with him,” chimes in Pierre, half-distracted by his phone. He looks up with a devious smile and continues. “He’s still thinking of Miss Reporter of the Year.” A round of loud, jovial laughter makes its way across the table, a few teasing quips being chimed in here and there.

“I just,” mocks Pierre from across the table, adopting a sing-songy tone as he bumps his shoulder to Carlos’ with a mocking laugh. “Wanna have a great time.” His voice is much higher and more mocking, which is enough to send Charles into a fit of petulant embarrassment.

“This isn’t sixth year,” he grits out quietly, but the blush on his face could just as well be plastered on the cheeks of a twelve-year-old. “Give it a rest.” 

“Mate.” Pierre’s voice mellows into something more austere. “You do know she’s leaving the reporters’ job at the end of the season? She’s going to London full-time. No more seeing her all year round. You know this. And I keep telling you. If you are really, and I mean really, interested, I say go for it. C’est la fucking vie, yeah?”

“Plus, if she says no, you can go for pretty much anyone else, anyway,” concludes Max with a convinced smile.

“It’s not the same,” he admits helplessly, smothering his hands over his face in bleak frustration. Behind his eyelids he sees you still, beautiful and smiling and funny—he seriously needs to institutionalise himself before he goes even more mad with the years-long malady he’s called a crush. And seriously, for a twenty-something to have something he calls a crush is despicable in itself. He feels juvenile.

“I can’t tell her. She’s always told people that dating coworkers is a bad idea.”

“You’re not coworkers.”

“We’re—well, we still work closely together. It is the same.” He groans. “It’s just… I’ve said it before. If I admit I like her, things will become awkward. I’d rather we remain friends.”

“Well… see, nobody said you needed to tell her,” begins Pierre schemingly, eyebrows raising. Around them, everybody groans at the birth of another Pierre-brained scheme that will, no doubt, need the enlistment of everyone’s help and will likely end in disaster. “What?! I’m just offering… I’m just saying, mate—you’ve liked her since forever. Why not make a move?”

“—I can’t—”

“Without telling her?” 

“Pierre,” groans Carlos, ever the voice of reason, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t—whatever this is you’re planning, it’s going to go to shit. I swear.”

“You are acting like I plan to take somebody hostage.” Pierre shrugs. “You know, girls like when you don’t tell them straight up. You have to show you like them. You know, be interested in the things they’re interested in, compliment them, make them laugh. And then they think, oh, how thoughtful, oh, how adorable, and before you know it, they like you. And you’ve got yourself a girlfriend.”

“Mmm. Uh-uh. Untrue.” Max says decisively, shaking his head. “I told Kelly I liked her.”

“Yeah, sí. I told Isa I liked her, too.”

“Will you two—just—” Pierre gesticulates and makes a funny noise that insinuates just go with it. “Okay?” he points out to the latter, rolling his eyes. He turns back to Charles with a ready, dazzling, so-French-it’s-scary grin and continues. “I suggest you let us be your wingmen and help you charm her.”

“Whoa, whoa, wh—us? You’re on your own here,” Max quips with a laugh. “It’s your stupid idea.”

“It’s not stupid, and it’s going to work. She probably likes you already.” His confidence carries the lie with gusto. “We just need—you just need to show her instead of saying the dumbest shit to her face.” Pierre leans back into his chair and shrugs matter-of-factly. “Max and I will be regular wingmen, but we have a secret weapon.”

“Don’t—” Carlos starts with a sigh.

“Yes. Lando, Lily, and Lissie are all close to her, eh? Well, perfect—Carlos will get information from Lando about things she likes, you gift her those things or talk to her about them, bam she’s in love. It’s literally a perfect plan.”

Maybe it’s worth it. Maybe—

“No.” Charles shakes his head firmly, setting the record straight. “This will not work. Who’s to say she even needs a boyfriend?”

—

Despite what his best and closest friends—on and off the paddock—might have you believe, Charles hasn’t always been so hopeless when it came to trying to catch your heart. His closest call came in Cancun, after a long weekend of racing and a flight to the area, early into the night where he thought he was the only one who decided to opt out of partying.

Your skin’s peeling. You turned from where you sat on a barstool observing the shore, startled, immediately relaxing when you found him standing there eyeing you. Your hair was still damp, crunchy with saltwater, and your skin had tanned considerably, a sunburn sitting on the bridge of your nose. You stuck your tongue out.

I spent the whole day swimming. He observed your bikini, yellow and green contrasting the colour of your skin. He blinked slowly, ordering himself a drink to hopefully pass the thoughts away. His eyes couldn’t stop, though, wandering, the translucent material of the scarf you’d tied loosely around your hips, the tinge of heat on your shoulders and nose. I’m burnt everywhere.

There are remedies for that. He smiled around his glass.

I’m aware, you said lightly, crossing your legs and sliding your finger along the salt rim of yours. But just in case I forgot, maybe you could refresh my memory.

Your voice was so sweet, so low, so tempting. Already he knew he was wrapped around your finger, the same finger picking up grains of salt to press on your tongue peeking between your smiling lips. You brought your glass to your lips. It had been some time since the dinner in London so he pressed, his voice deep and a little rough, Liam can do that for you, I’m sure.

Pity, you said meekly as you set your glass down and looked back at him. He’s not my boyfriend anymore.

Out of eyeline, the bartender’s eyes widened at the exchange he was overhearing. 

Is it a pity? He asked, leaning backwards and cocking his head to the side. It’s easy, an easy glide of conversation, flirt, something he’s wanted for a while now. To have you playing into him, and have himself playing into you, just like this. It was naturally easy in a foreign city where nobody knew who either of you were, where you were just two strangers flirting at a beachside bar.

Two strangers laughing while they dug their toes into the sand. Two strangers basking in the water, tinted orange by the sun dipping below the horizon, scarf untied in favor of one last swim before night fell. There was nothing keeping either of you from doing whatever you wanted. Nothing keeping Charles from finally acting on the attraction that honest to God crushed him.

You ended up leaning on the door of your hotel room, keycard fiddled in-between your sandy fingers. You combed a hand through your hair and offered a shy smile. So. 

So, he replied, leaning closer. So.

Sooo. You were laughing and your breath smelled like a mint leaf and vodka. You looked up at him, blinking slowly. I have a rule.

What rule is that?

I don’t date coworkers. He wanted to dip down, place a hand on the dip of your waist, and kiss you.

Pity, he said gruffly instead, a smile forming on his face.

Is it a pity? You chewed on your lip and looked at his barely parted ones, pink and pretty. When I’m about to break it? He was about to help you do just that—eyes fluttered shut already—when a crash resounded from down the hall and you both turned to find the culprit. You broke apart and with your separation, whatever atmosphere of tension you’d built up popped, too, leaving you awkwardly standing beside each other.

Oh m… Lissie? You asked, leaning closer as you recognized your friend more and more. You narrowed your eyes, watching the girl crawl her way through the carpeted floor. Oh, Jesus—let’s—get you—

You both hauled her up and wrapped either arm around your shoulders, unlocking her hotel room with great effort and tossing her onto the bed. You stood back and sighed at her half-blacked out state, slightly amused but ultimately relieved she ended her night unscathed.

She pried one eye open and sleepily, she groaned out, what were… you two… doing together outside your room?

Nothing, you said quickly, face warm and eyes wide.

Because you—Lissie raised a lazy finger in your direction—don’t date coworkers. 

I wasn’t—it wasn’t—goodnight, you spluttered, eyes refusing to meet Charles’ even as you both exited the room, paying him quiet thanks as he pulled the door back closed.

Sorry, you said, pretty as ever. The light shone on the red splotch on your nose. Goodnight.

And so he went to his room that night, bummed out and still high off your scent.

—

“You’re staring again.”

“I’m not,” he lies through his teeth, averting his eyes away from your figure by the shore. Sue him if he was staring (which he wasn’t… but most definitely was) but he finds you much too pretty. After the disaster that was the Mexican GP, he figures he could use some sort of stress reliever. Apparently he was not alone in thinking this, considering half the paddock hauled ass to Cancun and prompty partied.

Across Charles, Joris and Pierre share a knowing look that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I said I’m not!”

“So you are not staring at her blue swimsuit then?” Joris tests, mouth twisted into a devious smirk. “It’s black,” Charles says matter-of-factly before catching sight of his friends’ smug expressions and realizing he’s implicated himself. He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, petulantly almost. “And I wasn’t. Can you fucking—fuck off?”

“Just ask her out already,” Pierre groans, nodding when Joris chimes in with agreement of his own. “I seriously can-not handle another bar of this shit. It’s been years.”

“I don’t know how to,” he laments. “It’s going to be awkward if I do it all formal, and she’s going—she’ll laugh at me, and it’s…” He blows a raspberry. “Non. Pointless.”

“Just kiss her at the party,” reasons Joris with an easy attitude, shrugging. 

“Joris! Charles didn’t know about that,” Pierre says, trying to lower his volume, but it’s pointless since they’re barely a metre apart. “Fucking tattletale.”

“Party?!” Charles repeats, eyes wide. “Why don’t I know about a party?!”

“It’s a Halloween party,” Joris says, a wacky grin on his face. “And you said it yourself, didn’t ‘cha? You told us not to tell you if any functions were happening because you’re too tired to go to any. Too… too wrapped up racing.” He laughs. “Or something of the sort.”

“Well the season’s ending,” he huffs, wringing firm fingers over his face, his shut eyes, “and I still fucking haven’t… so I think I’m afforded a party.”

“Alright, then come to the party! Dress code, Halloween. Sexy Halloween.” Pierre wiggles his eyebrows. “You know, speaking of our plan, Carlos overheard Lissie and Lily talking about what your girl’s costume is going to be.” He leans in closer and laces his fingers together. “She’s going as a… Christina.”

“Christina?” The other two echo, confused. 

“Christina. I did some digging, and I think it’s this.” Pierre scrolls and dicks around on his phone for a minute before turning it back around to Joris and Charles, who peek with great interest. They seem to be looking at an outdated movie poster of—

“Cas-per the friendly ghost,” Charles reads aloud, trying to get his accent to dissipate. “Huh. What the fuck is that?”

“It’s a movie, idiot.” Pierre shuts his phone off. “Starring who? Christina Ricci.”

“Vraiment? You think his crush is going to show up wearing… a white gown?” Joris asks, his mind stuck on the outfit he’d seen just seconds ago. “This doesn’t make sense.”

“Well Carlos and I agreed, so. Two to two. And Carlos says she and her friends always wear silly costumes like these. So if she shows up as Christina, what better way to start conversation than to dress up as Casper?”

Charles’ eyes widen with comical horror. “No. No, no, no. Did the ghost and the kid fuck?”

“No!” The two men across him yell in unison.

“Right!” He gesticulates. “So it’s not a couples’ costume!”

“But it’s still—” Pierre pauses. “It still matches. Trust me on this one, mate.” He smiles. “We even brought the supplies.”

—

The party is a hit as soon as Charles and his group enter. The former finds refuge at the table, unwilling to socialize. Pierre roams for a bit and ends up finding you almost immediately—you’re wearing low-waisted pants, a strappy top, and you sport alternating streaks of blond and black in your hair.

“Hey!” He calls, jogging up to you. “I heard you were coming as a Christina. Guess who I am?”

You rake a hand through the streaks in your hair and smile. “Not just any Christina. The artist. Xtina? You know?” You twirl a bit, the dark material of your strappy pants swishing as you go, as if the movement will help Pierre deduce the costume’s identity. “Whatever. You’ll get it. Lando is—we’re matching tonight, but I g—it wouldn’t make any more sense if you don’t understand it.” You sigh a bit and gesture vaguely to the crowd behind you, referring to the Eminem-dressed Lando, who you guess is currently caught in the thick of.

“Xtina?” Iks-tina, he repeats, clearly confused. “I remember hearing… somebody saying you were going as a… a Christina.”

“Chris-tina, Xtina, yeah. Christina Aguilera.” You smile, fingers pinching at the material of your belt. “Anyway—where is everyone? I’ve only seen Daniel’s costume and then yours.” The recent memory of Danny’s neon orange traffic cone costume bumping into everybody flashes in your mind.

“Save yourself,” he huffs, smoothing calloused hands over the denim of his jeans. “Zhou and Esteban came as Bella and Jacob, Max as a Tifosi. Anyway”—he points to his ensemble—“guess yet?”

Your mental images of each cited costume are cut short. “Aha! You’re, um. Yes! You’re Ken from the Barbie movie,” you crack finally, remembering the revealing denim vest and jeans combo from the film you’d watched four times over in theaters a few months ago. “Wow, even your briefs say Ken. Very accurate. Minus the non-bleached hair.”

He tuts and shrugs. “I’m no Alex. What’d he come as?”

“He and Lily matched—Sonny and Cher.”

“Let me guess,” Pierre starts, and already you’re nodding because you can tell he’s going to predict exactly how the night has turned out, “Alex is Cher?”

“Wig and sequined dress and all.” You nod, laughing and squinting; Alex’s tall figure, head clad in a long, fringey, black wig, stands out above the rest. “Oh, I did see Carlos at the bar. Ricky Martin?”

Pierre really laughs at that, a loud, distinctly French guffaw involuntarily forced past his lip glossed mouth. “What the fuck, mate! Ricky Martin?! He’s El Profesor from La Casa de Papel. You know, Money Heist? Bella ciao? Oh, my God, he’s going to fucking freak if he hears—heard you said that.”

“He seriously gave off Ricky Martin vibes,” you defend in-between laughs of your own. “So that’s everyone? Oh—oh. Charles! What did… I never saw him! He kept telling me how excited he was for his costume, too…” Just a few hours ago, at that—a boisterous voice honing into the your voicemail inbox, boasting about a costume while you prepped for the party with Lissie and Lily. Your eyes peruse the room, but the lighting is too dark and vague for you to make out anything you haven’t already seen.

“Oh. Charles?” Pierre’s voice lilts higher. “Um. Yeaaah. Um.”

You, however, are sufficiently distracted by your own search for him, and you fail to notice Pierre’s clear scrambling attempt to stall you. He takes a long swig of beer and clears his throat. “He’s just, well, around. I should actually—excuse me, I need to actually go look for him. I owe him a drink.”

“Oh? Oh, okay. Well—be careful?”

You’re a bit surprised by his sudden, jolted departure, but bid him a rushed goodbye anyway. He waves back vaguely, his eyebrows furrowed into an expression of worry as he shoves his way back into the crowd and toward the area littered with tables. It’s only then that Lissie surfaces from the crowd, scratching absently at her nose as she crashes into you with a floaty giggle.

“Lis, you’re all sticky.” You place two palms flat against her shoulders and push her off. “Are you high?” 

“Yes but not drunk.” She giggles again, eyes fluttering.

“Oh—that’s not. Whatever, I guess.” You exhale and cross your arms over your chest. “Who’ve you been with?” She listens, plays with the braid in her hair, matching her getup as Lara Croft. 

“Um, the deejay. I gave him my number, but he’s actually pretty fucking weird. Come on, I want to pee.” As always, her speech quickens to something inhuman, an effect elicited by alcohol; giving you essentially zero time to react, she loops a hand around yours and drags you with ferocity to the nearest restroom. She moves so aggressively through the thickly-packed crowd you barely have time to react or say hi to people you’re acquainted with en route.

You whiz by the door, and in the rush, you notice Pierre entering the one adjacent with a worried expression etched onto his face. Just minutes ago you’d been conversing—you wonder why he’s suddenly become privy to worries.

“So the deejay,” says Lissie, effectively distracting you for the time being. You hum to signify you’re listening, fixing bits of your outfit in the mirror as she kicks different stalls open to judge their cleanliness. “One, he was dressed up as James Bond. Which is just about the most fucking pretentious thing ever. Two, all he played was Chainsmokers. You’re telling me this pub—club—whatever—in Mexico could only afford to commission this guy? Three, he was”—she kicks the last door open and a gasp escapes her and morphs into a semi-shriek—“a ghost?!”

“Ghosted you? Already?” Your eyes, focused previously on re-lining your lips, flits to Lissie’s in the reflection. She’s distracted, staring at the contents of a stall with comically wide eyes. “What’s up? S’that a fucking glory hole or something?”

“No!” She yells when you approach, immediately lunging forward to pull it shut. “No. It’s—I saw a roach. Serves us for going to a fucking… pub. Don’t go in there, it’s…” She exhales a long breath. “It was a mama roach and… with eggs.”

“What are you talking about?” This isn’t even a pub, it’s a nightclub—one with a door fee that definitely did not warrant rogue cockroaches in the water closet. “Lis, you’re drunk-hallucinating.” You’re not even sure if that’s a thing, but you shove past her and push the stall door open again, ready to come face-to-face with, maybe, a sleeping Tinkerbell or a puking black cat. Worst case scenario, shit on the floor; worst-er case scenario, Lissie is right and you’ve stepped into a den of roaches.

Weirdest case scenario, though, if that’s an actual thing: Charles Leclerc seated on the closed toilet seat, face painted white, wearing an all-white ensemble of a large white shirt, shorts, high socks, and sneakers. He’s got two hands on either side of the wall, as if he’d been preparing to escape; how or to where, you’re clueless. Why he’s here, you’re even more stumped.

His entire face is a stark white, with black smudges of face paint on his forehead (eyebrows, you’re guessing); his hair’s been curled by the humid air at this club, and he looks like himself in all the ways he totally does not, eyes big and caught when yours click onto them. 

Despite confusion, you chalk it up, as one would rationally do at a party, to intoxication. You spend a few bated breaths staring at him staring at you, his face of pure shock and embarrassment enough to sober up a drunk for a few days. “Hi.” You can hear yourself say it, but you’re so caught off-guard and full of confusion it feels alien.

“Hey,” he says, wiping four fingers over his stubborn face paint with a smile. The smile and the paint barely fade. “I’m a ghost.”

“I see. Classic.” You pause. “I’m Chr… nevermind. Um—are you okay?”

“A bit, uh—a tad bit drunk. I seem to be in the ladies’ room.”

“Yeah, you seem to be,” you recite back to him, amusement quickly overtaking confusion. “I think Pierre was looking for you. Let me go get him. Lis, make sure he doesn’t…” You gesture a puking movement, and the pair watch and listen to your shoes click against the tile, before the door swings open and then shut again.

“Coast is clear.” Lissie’s voice has been lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “I reckon everyone you know is already looking for you?”

“This is a disaster.” He rubs frantically at the face paint, but it’s horribly futile. “You know, I didn’t even realize I was in the ladies’ room until you two came in. She cannot see me like this.”

“She already fucking has, mate.” Lissie sounds exasperated. “Whose idea was this? If you say Pierre I swe—”

“—Pierre—”

“—ar to Jesus fucking Christ, Charles—I can’t keep saving you from Pierre’s antics.” She grumbles out a sigh. “What are you supposed to be, even? Have you—did you see how hot she looks? This is like… you look like a… I can’t—” She lets herself taper off, so disbelievingly shocked at his odd costume.

“I’m Casper the Ghost!” Lissie mentally forms a crude picture of the kid ghost, which looks absolutely nothing like what’s in front of her. “Casper was opposite Christina Ricci. Pierre told me so.”

“That’s the dumbest analogy ever, holy Christ. You look like a poster child for some…” She regards him for a moment. “Anemia advert.”

“Take that back.”

“You don’t really have the upper hand here, Charles,” says Lissie with a grimace. “I’m texting Pierre. Are you—did you even get drunk?”

“No,” he woes. “I am totally sober. I had to lie. Pierre went to the table and told me that my—that the costume we planned—it was wrong, and I just—I ran to the bathroom.” Lissie can’t help but laugh at the story, raising her camera to record the incriminating evidence.

Mid-video, Charles’ white face droops and his painted lips part to ask: “You think she found me cute?”

—

Charles likes finding things about you. He supposes the first time he realized just how much he liked hearing you talk about yourself—which you rarely did—happened in São Paulo. He’d been stressing over a spiel to recite in front of a camera, rewriting over words for hours to make everything sound more natural.

Each margin had been hastily written on with pencil, run-on sentences with semicolons in the place of periods. The team scriptwriter didn’t do much to make his lines sound more natural and less like they’d just been spat out of an online translator. You peeked into the media pen and coughed. You don’t belong here, do you?

Tch, he clicked his tongue, turning to offer a smile. I’m working on a script for Sunday. Portugese stuff.

I can help, you responded, walking slowly over toward him. You smiled quietly, approaching slowly like you were waiting for him to greenlight your offer. He did so by pulling a chair out for you, and once you sat you traced a nail over each line, murmuring them under your breath.

You speak Portugese?

You looked up and gave a half-shrug, laughing like you were amused with yourself. Kind of. It’s not very good, but it’s enough. You resumed your editing and he felt content to stare, admire, watch every movement of your lips align with the syllables of the words. You asked for a pencil and began writing something much cleaner. He couldn’t help but let himself be in awe of your intelligence.

You read over the last few lines and turned to face him. Let me guess, you said. You want to make a pun on Ferrari before you say bye.

Ah, he laughs. Yeah.

See, I know you so well, you half-joked, scrawling idle edits on the margins of his script.

He was already looking at you when you turned back to him, seeking his response, agreement, anything. When your eyes met, something caught at your chest—it tugged, tugged, then tugged again, a dull feeling burrowed deep in you. Words failed to wrench themselves free, but once they did, all you could manage was a faint—What?

Nothing. He smiled and shook his head, like he was waiting for you to figure it out. You know… sometimes, I wish I met you sooner. He does. He wishes he knew you back then, when you first learned Portugese. Or when you were in high school, so you could see just how exponentially awkward he was in his own teenage years. He thinks sometimes that he’s lost too much time, met and liked you too late.

Hm, you breathed out, because you didn't know what else to. I know why—so you could always have me. As a proofreader. Right?

Hah. The tilt of his laugh was high and mocking, and he stuck his tongue out, as if to punctuate that. He looked away then, like he wasn’t ready to say certain things to your face just yet. Quietly he added, Always have you… something like that.

—

If you ask Charles what he’s doing hiding in a laundry basket of a luxury hotel in São Paulo, he wouldn’t be able to answer you, either. It’s been some time since the disaster that was Caspergate Cancun 2023, and if he’s perfectly honest, he doesn’t feel like facing you again for the rest of his life. Pierre, of course, has other plans. 

All he knows is last night, Pierre suggested he leave a huge vase of roses for you to arrive to in the living room of your hotel; as he planted it in said room, the door’s lock turned, and he sought a hiding place in the adjacent bedroom. Judging by the prevalent scent of Dior Sauvage, this is Lando Norris’ room.

Did u get to escape??? Pierre’s text irritates him. At the same time, the light flips on; Charles curls in on himself, remaining perfectly still. Lando’s voice trills through the room. “I didn’t leave those roses for either of you,” he’s saying to you and Lissie.

Charles hears you hum. “They’re so beautiful.” His heart swells. “I gotta run for a sec, pick up something from Will’s room.” A few seconds pass and the door opens and shuts, which means Charles is currently alone with Lando and Lissie. Which means he needs to plot his escape as soon as he can. Otherwise he’ll be caught in the crossfire and much too embarrassed to—

A foot meets his concealed body and he lets out an oof! as he’s sent flying out of the hamper, along with strewn-around clothes. He keeps his eyes screwed shut, scared shitless and in a fetal position; he only unfurls when a socked foot kicks at his ass. Above him are Lando and Lissie, both extremely confused. 

“How did you know I was…?!” He asks, aghast.

“My fucking laundry was breathing, mate, s’not that hard to leave alone,” Lando retorts sharply. “What are you doing?!”

“I left roses for her,” he explains fruitlessly, gesturing to the vase outside. “But you came in, and this was the closest hiding place. I was told this would be a great gesture.”

“Right. Where did you even get that advice?” Lando tries to suppress the critical tone in his voice, but judging by Charles’ embarrassed grimace, he’s failed. Beside him, Lissie makes a hm? noise, goading Charles to answer quicker.

“I got it from.” Charles pauses. “A friend,” he ekes out vaguely.

“No shit. Who?”

“Um—” Charles’ eyes are shut. “Pierre.”

In unison, Lissie and Lando both release incredulous gasps, throwing their hands up in the air. Lissie points at the mess of clothes in the corner of the room to emphasize her point and asks loudly, with comical cynicism: “This seemed like proper romantic advice to you?”

“Scratch that. Pierre’s words seemed like proper romantic advice to you? His girlfriend is—!” Lando places a flat palm a few inches off the floor and shakes it a few times to insinuate Kika’s age, his disbelieving expression growing funnier by the second. “Mate!” His voice cracks mid-syllable, though even this mishap seems to be the least crazy thing about tonight.

Charles, burning with humiliation, releases a shaky sigh. “I know! I know!”

“You don’t know!” They shout simultaneously in response, disappointed if anything. Just then the door opens again and your two best friends hurry to throw assorted pieces of laundry on the lying Charles, exiting to make sure you don’t suspect anything. 

“Hey,” you say slowly, because they’re both posed the exact same. “Am I… missing something?”

“A shower, girl,” Lando says, and you flip him off before retreating into your room.

Belatedly you ask, “Did you find out who sent those flowers?”

“Some loser, probably,” he calls right back. Charles emerges to poke him accusatorily, but Lando just shrugs. Charles definitely does not have the upper hand here, anyway. 

“Just get out,” Lissie says, completely done with Charles’ antics. “And stop. Listening. To Pierre.” 

He rinses the odor of laundry off him once he’s at his room, but thinks, despite himself, that you called the flowers beautiful.

—

Are you—

—no. I’m not. You wiped a hand over your face and caught mascara along with it. I’m fine, it’s fine.

What he said, it wasn’t…

I said, you turned to face him, eyes rimmed and mouth trembling. You didn’t finish your sentence, just tore the microphone off your lapel and buried your face in your hands. There was always going to be a first time. Your first time insulted on a live feed, after the Abu Dhabi weekend, was not any less shocking. You felt small. You felt humiliated.

You didn’t want to show Charles any of it. You moved around the green room, picking up shit to throw into your bag. Thank God the season was fucking over, you kept thinking. I feel so, you said, still failing to finish anything you started to say. You’d been called an annoying bitch by a fan of one of the drivers—to your face, as you exited the paddock.

He moved nearer. Charles, you said, a half-sob, and then you were allowing him to crash, allowing him to hug you. Your arms were weak when they wrapped back around him, linking softly in the small of his back. You sobbed hard into his chest until his grey tee was dark with tears. I want out, I just want out.

You’ll lord your career over that prick when you’ve made a million dollars doing this, he said. You do it too well to want out. You’re too smart. You’re too good. You cried harder, your face hurt and every word felt wrestled unintentionally, like it took too much work to say much at all. I’m sorry, you said. You should go. 

No, he said. He held you closer. Not until you feel better.

—

He cries after Abu Dhabi. Bad season, everyone’s said. You snap a few smiling pictures with Max, who wins, and Lily and Lissie and the lot of them, the people who made the year so great. You notice an absence in all the pictures and you find it in a room in the Ferrari motorhome.

You’ve found you both find solace in words. In reassurance. But you’ve also found that your connection enables you both to reassure without having to say anything at all. You sit beside him, lean your head on his shaky shoulder, and wait.

“I was waiting for you to come,” he admits brokenly. “I was just not feeling good.”

“I know,” you respond. “It was a bad race. Shit strat.”

He’s quiet. His breaths are ragged and wet and shaky. “Will you stay? Until I feel better?”

You don’t move. “I’ll stay for longer.”

—

In the kitchen Charles unscrews himself a beer. The sky outside is pink and the sun hides behind faraway mountains, gradually darkening the entire atmosphere, save for the few woolly clouds. He’s by the patio door so he can spot people in the wide yard: Pierre, exchanging a Frisbee with Lando. Max, Alex, and Lissie engaged in an intense match of Uno.

They’re all gathered here in Spain at Carlos’ behest to celebrate the dawn of winter, and the end of the season, Max’s third championship.

He’s yet to spot you—he’d been told earlier you’d be late—but it doesn’t matter. He’s been feeling uncharacteristically himself all day anyway. He wrote that on his notebook this morning, on the flight here, verbatim. Looked up the word to spell it right and everything. He remembers you saying it, that time in London where you and Lando took him around and annihilated Borough Market before lounging on the grassy knoll of a nearby park. I feel so uncharacteristically happy, you’d joked. The syllables were too stunted and too fast for Charles to nail it. But he feels it now. Uncharacteristic.

He tells everyone he’s fine, though, and does a good job of it. Three beers in and he’s beginning to trick himself into thinking he actually is doing fine. Nobody suspects he’s been feeling empty from such a bad finish to the season—the season that was already bad in itself. He hasn’t been feeling his usual drive, his usual appetite. He doesn’t know when it will return.

“Here you are.” Carlos has this goofy smile on his face when he bounds into the kitchen, depositing empty dishes at the sink. “Listen, I have to tell you something.”

Charles and Carlos have always shared an easy dynamic—they’ve both always wanted the same thing. Racing has always been at the forefront of their minds. It makes conversation passionate, easy, fun; it was what helped build their now-natural rapport in the first place. “Yeah?” He prods, leaning against the counter and tipping fizz into his mouth.

“I invited everyone here to announce… something important.” Carlos crosses his arms. “But I wanted you to be the first to know.”

“Me?” Charles knits his eyebrows and smiles. “Wow.” He gulps, cocks his head. “What is it, then? Are you switching teams?”

Carlos’ goofy smile grows. “Isa and I are engaged. I’m retiring next year.”

“You—you’re—” Charles laughs and shuts his eyes all at once. “Oh, my God, mate! Congratulations!” The overload of information isn’t lost on him, but he channels it all into a hug. “Are you really retiring, though? I mean. Wow, this is amazing news—but—”

“I was sure as soon as I asked,” Carlos says squarely, smiling as if he’s conjured an image of Isa’s smiling face (which is likely the case). “As soon as she said yes. As soon as I bought the ring!” He laughs aloud, so overwhelmed with happiness of recalling everything. “I’m so glad you were the first person I told.”

“Besides Lando,” Charles says, because he knows it’s true.

“Besides Lando.” Carlos smiles. “I’m… dios, I’m happy. I always knew I’d have something to look forward to after racing.” They hug again, and then he clambers past Charles and into the patio, where he resumes the façade of being unengaged and still a driver. Left behind, Charles thinks over it himself. What does he have to look forward to after racing? All his life, racing is all that ever existed to him. 

The announcement comes eventually—when it’s dark out, intermittent stars white and twinkly against the black above. Charles has once again turned into a blushy mess because you arrived a few hours prior, wearing a lovely dress and with your hair down in messy waves and you said hi to him earlier without him approaching first. They present a stupid, but very Carlos-and-Isa ring-shaped cake to announce it, and somebody queues up music and everyone’s cheering. Of course everyone’s cheering—it’d be impossible for this announcement to not come with bouts of yelling and cheering and goodbyes to Carlos, who accepts them with glee and—dare he say—excitement.

Charles remembers their first year as teammates, the jokes they’d made about needing to beat the other out. For both of them, he recalls, it’s only ever been the drive to race. He didn’t think Carlos would even entertain the idea of retiring yet. He wonders when he will. The thought of it alone is enough to send a well of anxiety run deep into him—which happens after he congratulates the couple, so he excuses himself to the empty outdoors area to get fresh air back into him.

He didn’t mean it, but he finds you already there. “Hi,” you say when he slides the door shut. “You okay?”

“Just… yeah, I’m fine.” You smell faintly like smoke. “It’s crazy, huh. Everyone’s… moving on.”

“So Carlos told everyone, then,” you say, pursing your lips and waiting for his response. He closes his eyes and lets a soft exhale escape him, warm air out and fresh air in, a welcome change from the heady atmosphere in the party. “I knew. I bought that God awful cake. I kept saying get a normal one but they both wanted it to be shaped like a ring.” You punctuate your sentence with a crisp laugh, a stunted exhale of air to break the tension.

You have a natural sway over words, graceful and beautiful and commanding, something he only wishes he could be. For so long he’d been told the feedback loop of one and the same thing: you’re good. You’re the best. You’re going to be the next big thing. And this season had just… aggravated every single insecurity he’s picked up in his years of racing. He wishes sometimes he’d been told something else: you suck. You’re normal. You’re irrelevant. Then at least he wouldn’t exist in some odd panopticon of feeling on top of the world and yet looking at it from the bottom of a pitch black abyss.

“Yeah,” he says instead, wringing his hands. He mimics the wrist movements he’s made to do during gym hours. “It’s wild how—I mean, not really wild, but. I just can’t… even picture my life after racing.”

“You’re young, that’s warranted,” you laugh. “You’re also… I mean, even if you drop out of racing tonight, it’s not like you’re going to become dirt poor or anything. You could become a bloody orthodontist and people will still love you.”

“Will they?”

He didn’t mean to say it aloud but out it comes, garbled and rushed and he’s a bit embarrassed for sounding like a child in front of somebody he finds so beautiful. The silence is suspended and dry, and for a minute all he hears and feels is the slow rise and fall of his chest. To somehow mend the vulnerability, he tries again. “It’s not—I just think I’ll be lonely if I decide to stop racing.”

The fact that Carlos can say with so much ease that he’s willing to drop his career to ensure his pending marriage lasts is almost terrifying, because Charles knows he wants that. He knows—he’s always known—that he wants that intimacy, that realness, but for it to come at the cost of something he’s known for so long is so scary it’s almost a dealbreaker.

“Lonely?” You echo, voice tinged with concern. “Charles—”

“Lonely.”

He says it with an edge to his voice, so final, so steadfast. Loneliness is what he’s always feared and he knows, with a deep drawling punch to his gut, that loneliness is what will come if he decides to stop racing. Even if he’s tired. Even if he’s so pent up with frustration and loss and anger. Racing is all he’s ever known, it’s all he is—when he’s not tied to it, who is he? “Like no one… like I’m just standing in front of what I’m supposed to be, and when people see me, that’s all they see—what’s behind me. Right through me.”

“Well, you’re off racing right now,” you respond, trodding carefully. “So, well. Do you feel that way?”

He knows what you mean: it’s winter break, so he’s not driving or doing some form of it every single day. And he knows in turn what to answer: no, not really, he doesn’t really feel detached from it because there’s a low anticipation in his belly that tells him he’ll be doing it all again soon. But he chooses to interpret it differently; differently, but not falsely.

“I th… I don’t feel lonely,” he says, “when I talk to you. You see me.” 

Your stomach drops and your heart begins to pulse a mile a minute, knuckles tightening where they’ve gripped onto the wooden post of the patio. You can feel the air in your lungs pass through every divot of your body as it escapes and arrives in long, shaky breaths. He’s looking at you, his eyebrows knitted like he wants—needs an answer, if you’d be kind enough to please give him one. 

“I…” You bite your lip, every thought in your head at odds with the other.

Time feels like rubber, like it’s been stretched and manipulated and Carlos is ducking out to announce that it’s time to blow out candles on the stupid ring-shaped cake and you’ve taken too long to respond and your body feels too heavy but your heart feels too light and your eyes are blinking, open and shut and open again, and you feel like the wind could honestly blow you away now because Charles has given you a neutral nod and left you alone again, to contemplate the weight of what he’s finally, finally admitted, tonight here under the sky of Spain.

You move a hand over your hair, watch him walk away. The words lodge themselves in your throat, but they’re there.

—

One minute after  you realized you liked Charles, you swallowed the feelings until they were barely decipherable.

In happened in Dublin, at a pub on St. Paddy’s Day, when you’d emerged fresh out of a breakup with the most arseholic Irishman you’d ever had the displeasure of meeting. And funnily enough, it happened without Charles’ presence. You’d spent the day at Liam’s, hours of fighting over so many things—the growth of your career and the decimation of his, where your relationship had soured, why you never came to visit him, Charles, the sodding bloke you like so much—until finally, you took your things and left.

Wise, because you might’ve honestly gone insane if you stayed a minute longer, attuning your ears to the deafening feedback loop of his voice. Also decidedly unwise, because you had a piece of luggage and barely any battery, in a full city of people you didn’t know at all.

There was no chance Liam would let you return, and no chance you wanted to, for that matter—the fact still stood, though, that you needed to kill the night before your flight to France left at 6AM. You entered the first pub you heard, deposited your bag at the coat check for an extra couple of euros, and accepted the first pint thrust into your hand and first leprechaun hat plopped atop your head.

In between watching people compare how they poured Guinness pints, Sinead O’Connor songs, and exchanging headdresses with a random stranger, you found yourself impressingly drunk. The Irish did it too well.

A university student stumbled past your stool, tears in her eyes; she stopped to steal a shot of whiskey lying unattended on the bar. You looped a hand around her wrist and stared at her menacingly. Manners?!

Fuck manners, she said wetly, wrenching every word out with great effort. Nobody paid either of you any attention. I just caught my best friend and boyfriend kissing. Her accent was unmistakably Irish and was stronger with the tears.

Oh, you said, loosening your threatening grip. Sorry.

Don’t be. I’m sorry I could ever be so stupid, she said, aghast, before finally stalking outside the pub. Half an hour later, you wound up at a table of thirty-somethings, all belting along to a folky sounding song.

Drunkenly you slurred out, I thought it was a stereotype.

What was, love? One of them paused her singing, dipping down to listen to you properly. Your cheek was smushed against the varnished wood, moving with every syllable you eked out.

The songs. You sound like… you belong in the 19th century.

She laughed at that, surfacing and yelling something to the band onstage you couldn’t quite decipher. The song reached its peak, loud and getting the whole crowd singing along, before fading into a familiar opening. S’this better? She asked, her voice slightly raised above the guitar.

You looked up. I liked the other one too, to be fair. M’not a fucking anti-Irish.

Nobody said that, love. Come sing. She hauled you upward, exaggerating her arm swinging in the air so you’d follow suit, which you did. You hummed the opening, eyes fluttering open and closed. You imagined opening them again and finding Charles across the room, already looking, with the same charming, boyish smile on his face that came to you as comfort.

You thought back to the dinner in London, the feeling of his shirt against your shoulder, the way he’d gotten you so easy and laughing and babbly, something you never got with Liam. You squeezed your eyes shut and exhaled raggedly. Fuck.

Linger’ll do that to you, your companion mused. Around you, the entire pub sang along to the song that served as the backdrop to your all-encompassing romantic epiphany. Missing a lover, huh?

No, just… You opened your eyes, watched the band sing out the rest of the prechorus before they slid into the next verse. A new kind of air had crept over the pub, one that exemplified just how much this song could mean to anyone, no matter who. You shut them again and saw Charles. The green of his eyes, mossy on some days and bright on others. The moles on his face. The grooves of his hand, the way it wrapped around things like pens, mics, bottles, your fingers. His voice, how he curved around words. He always knew exactly what you meant even if it took you ages to get to the point, even if you felt like you didn’t know what you meant exactly. 

You opened your eyes. Suddenly fights with Liam didn’t matter. Whatever little sympathy you had left evaporated as you listened to the lyrics and realized, with a damning force, that you were thinking of Charles. And this was not weak, this was not vague, this was a strong thing that took you off your feet like a gust of wind, hurtling you out of the pub. You thought of every time your eyes met his, both of you already laughing at something else present. Every time he saw you at the end of a busy work day and asked if you were doing alright.

Just this guy, I suppose. His name’s… yeah. We’ve been friends for ages. He’s really very talented. Very kind. Your voice was drowned out by the music but you didn’t intend for anything to be heard, anyway. And he’s the smartest person I’ve ever met. He always knows what to say. He’s not in Dublin tonight, not even in Ireland, for God’s sake. 

He’s your boyfriend, then?

You closed them slowly. No. T’wouldn’t be very smart to date him.

Is he an arse?

No either. It’s just too late.

I’m sorry, love.

Don’t be, you mused, eyes still shut as Linger came to a close. I’m sorry I could ever be so stupid.

—

Charles should be in Monaco. You should be in London. But at four-thirty PM, leaning against the counter of a tiny café in Dublin, you cross paths for the first time in weeks, and everything tilts on its axis.

He notices you first, because he hears you thank the barista quietly. It’s not your reporter voice, not the one you put one when you’re interviewing him or his teammate or his fellow athletes. But it’s your real one, and it’s the one he thinks he could hear through a snowstorm.

A tuxedo-clad man exits and suddenly you’re there. You’re wearing a white top, low neck and thin straps covered by a cardigan. You’re sliding coins into the pocket of your jeans and he watches your hand freeze, drags his eyes back up to you, finds you’re already looking.

You look beautiful, he thinks. You put on a lot of makeup for the cameras, and you looked gorgeous, but seeing you like this—caught, almost, in a moment you didn’t expect to see him—you look unbelievably beautiful. He aches with it. 

“You look well,” he says first when he opens the café door for you. “What’s your business in Ireland?”

“Acquainting myself with my new coworker.” You wait for him to follow and squint when the sun hits your eye. “We’ve been here three weeks, fly back to London next Monday. You?”

“It does seem weird for me to be here,” he observes absently. “I needed a change of pace, I think. Gear up for the season.” He shakes his half-full cup of coffee. “Where are you staying?”

“Just up ahead.” A slow silence overcomes you both. “Come over. I have beer. I know you can’t be fucked to have coffee.” He laughs and nods, following you through the road and up into a flat—a BNB, if he’s guessing. There’s a tiny landing and then stairs to a wider living area, where you proceed to unwrap the croissant you’d gotten a few minutes earlier. You chuck it into the fridge and produce two bottles of beer in one go.

“Sit,” you gesture to the spot beside you, and he sits himself there. “We can talk. We should.”

You’ve shrugged your cardigan off, and he observes every detail of your exposed skin, the way your hair layers atop it. Right as he opens his mouth to respond, a blond girl enters, rings of mascara caking her eyes and a wine glass twiddled in-between thumbs. She’s talking her head off and only pauses when she spots Charles.

“Hhhh…iiii.”

“Salut.” 

“You’re Charles?” She notices how close the two of you are seated together.

“Yes,” he says. 

“Charles, this is Robyn—my coworker’s friend. And by extension my friend.” You pat her knee and point to Charles to get them properly introduced. “She leeches off the apartment.” 

“You love me,” she retorts, mockingly—but sweetly. “Anyway, sorry to intrude. I was just on the phone with my situationship.” She rolls her eyes. “Does he think I give two shits about goodnight texts? It feels impossible to be romantically satisfied these days.”

Charles grunts. “I hear that,” he says, just to make Robyn feel less excluded. You get up then, to fuck around at the kitchen sink—he suspects you’re not actually doing chores—but you come back with wet hands and you sit yourself across Charles, on the loveseat, instead of next to him. 

“The thing is, right,” she gulps wine, “there’s such a thing with dating now,” Robyn says, not missing a beat, her Geordie accent curving round the syllables with a distinctive twang. She stares at the opaque red liquid in her glass, like that will supplement her with more words. “Like a deal. A big deal. Everyone’s making this huge thing out of it, and it’s like, can’t we be in our twenties and fuck around occasionally?” She laughs, a high-pitched, tapered noise.

You shift from where you’re seated, buried into the material of the seat. It’s quiet and beginning to touch awkward, so you speak in a rough voice: “I dunno, I kind of… get it.”

“Oh do you, now,” she responds, voice saturated with wine. “No, it’s—I was joking. Of course you would, you’re absolutely fucking gorgeous, is all.”

Suddenly you feel all too seen and inclined to touch a fingertip to your cheek, feather light. You blink so you won’t feel tempted to meet Charles’ eyes, because you feel them on you. “It’s—thank you, I mean. It’s nothing to do with that. I just always feel it’s impossible to find someone who loves you. I feel like I’m not very lovable.”

“You? You’re bloody fucking likable!” Robyn’s laugh is so disbelieving you find yourself semi-convinced. “You’re a bit intimidating, yeah, but you’re lovable as fuck, babe.”

You double down anyway, voice thin. “Right. I don’t think I’m very good at being… affectionate.”

“Hah. Bull. You’re affectionate with… with Charles! I’ve heard you talk about him to Jane.”

She turns to Charles before you have the chance to defend yourself. To him she asks: “Is she affectionate with you?”

But it’s basically rhetorical. Everyone speculates, sees the way you two bend the line between friendship and romance, the care with which you treat Charles, the way you two understand each other in ways impossible for anyone else in your orbit. Fuck if it’s not overtly physical. Robyn’s known you three weeks and has never even met Charles until seven minutes ago and already she’s sensed the energy, the difference, even if she hasn’t seen you do so much as embrace.

“It’s—” You say and say too quickly. You wind up slowing your speech so you don’t sound too defiant and lean backwards, willing yourself to relax. “It’s… different with Charles.”

“Different?” She repeats, miming every dip and rise of your voice. “Why?”

“We’re close.” You refuse to meet his eyes. “Be—because we’re good friends. I feel… things are… just. They’re different. That’s all, really.” Barely satisfied with the answer you eked out, you cross your arms over your torso like it’ll help shield you from the interrogation going on. Briefly you let your eyes fall on Charles; he’s reclined, eyes all over the place, blinking in quick flashes.

“But you admit it, at least?” She smiles. “That you’re affectionate, I mean.”

“Only with…” you taper off, unwanting to dig yourself a deeper hole. “Right. Sure, yeah.”

“Well then,” she says, eyebrows raising as she dows the rest of her glass. She sets it down on the low wooden table with a clink. “I’ll get going. Don’t let me keep you two from shagging or whatever.”

“We don’t f—shag,” you interrupt, voice sharp. “And you’re not keeping us at all. Me, at all.”

Us sounds so exclusive, you realize as it leaves your lips. Us. It tastes like sour cherries on your tongue, bleeds all over. Robyn gives you a look. In response, you insist on seeing her out, leaving Charles at the sofa, elbows on his knees, hands toying with the neck of the beer bottle. He can make out faint words but he doesn’t try translating or deciphering them, just listens to your muffled voice peek through every few words. You sound amused, also accused, also endeared—a bit irritated. You end it with a laugh.

You clamber back in after a few minutes and find him at the top of the stairs.

“Sorry,” you wave off, rolling your eyes to fend Robyn’s earlier interrogation efforts of. “She’s very strong-willed.” You climb the stairs, your striped linen shorts folding with every movement of your legs. Finally you make it to the top, on the second-to-the-last stair, staring up at him.

“You know,” he says, watching you ascend to the top finally, but you’re still staring upward. “You should know.”

“Should know what?”

“I missed you.”

You inhale and are grateful to find the air is all him. “I missed you, too.”

“In a different way.”

“Me, too,” you echo again, voice quiet. “I missed you. It feels like I’ve missed you all my life.”

He can hear your still, controlled breathing. “Thank you for seeing me. Even when, you know, it’s… hard. You know what I mean.”

“I do,” you say. “It’s never difficult, not…” With you.

He leans down and captures your mouth in his then, like it’s a thirst he’s always needed quenched. You allow it, kiss him back like you’ve needed this your entire life. His lips are chapped, but you don’t mind—Dublin’s cold. He kisses like he’s smiling, like he’s happy, and you think maybe that’s not far off. He moves downward, to your jaw; lower, along the column of your throat, around your collarbones, cornering you against the wall, letting you lean against it.

Charles’ kisses are light and soft, but also heavy, like he’s trying to waste as little time as possible. You sigh, feeling light, feeling ecstatic. He puts two hands on either side of your face, presses your foreheads together, and shuts his eyes. 

You feel the divots of his fingers on your hip, your waist, places he’s never touched before. “I’m sorry I left,” you breathe into him. “Back in Spain. In Madrid. I wanted to think about it. About what you said. About everything, about you.”

“I’m glad I found you here, then.”

You tiptoe to kiss him again, because now that you’ve had it once you’re terrified you won’t have it again. In-between kisses he picks you up, cages you fully against the wall, and you breathe shaky little exhales. It builds up quicker and harder; you feel his cock at your hip and shiver, eyelashes fluttering. “Upstairs,” you say breathlessly.

He likes knowing you want this, because he’ll give you whatever you want. He’d fuck you for hours. Have you shaking, eking out moans of his name. He’d whisper praise up and down your ear. He wants this just as much, if not more.

“I want you, so much,” you exhale when he lies you both down on your bed. “So much.”

He tugs your shorts off, then your panties. He doesn’t usually lack self-restraint, but he thinks he’s never felt this much temptation in his life. He’s so hard. He brings one hand to his thigh and squeezes his dick through his pants, but it doesn’t provide him with any kind of relief. You’re needy already, whimpering, mind dizzy. He slides a finger up your slit and watches you screw your eyes shut.

Slowly he sinks in, watches you accustom to the stretch. “Wanted this,” you breathe out.

He thrusts in further, feels your warm cunt stretch around him, feels your breaths get hotter and quicker against his lips. But he takes it nice and slow, so he can feel every little ridge inside of you as you take all of him. “You like it?”

You nod, too dumbed down to speak. “Good girl. Pretty, pretty girl.”

He’s wanted this for so long, fucking you deep and slow and desperate. He thrusts harder, watches you unravel and your hot breaths pick up in pace. He reaches down, smears wetness around your clit as your thighs begin to shake. Your pretty, flushed face is enough to send him into overdrive, your eyes rolling back as he goads you into orgasm.

You’re still cumming around him when he takes a shaky breath, pulls you tightly back against him, and lets the pleasure take over. He fucks you full, rides his orgasm out while you ride yours out—buries his dick all the way inside, so each spurt fills your contracting pussy up.

He pulls out and collapses beside you, pressing his lips to your shoulder before lying on his back. “I’ll clean you up in a minute.” It’s quiet for a second, just you two breathing.

Then: “I did, I did think about it,” you say, voice reedy. “I thought about you.”

“Yeah?” He watches you blink at the ceiling, lets you clasp your hands onto his.

“About me, too.” You open your eyes and stare into the green.

“D’you want this?”

“Believe me,” you say, threading your fingers into his tightly. Your hair’s fussed from the sex. “I do. But—”

His heart drops.

“I don’t want to… I want you to not…” You sigh. “You know, I like seeing you. I like being that. I like knowing I make you feel good. And I want you to know you… you make me feel amazing. Like you and I… we understand each other.” You pause. “Sometimes I feel like you’re the only person who understands every inch of me.”

“Ditto,” he says, and you smile.

“I look up to you, you know? I don’t want you to anchor yourself onto me. I want you to realize that on your own. You’re smart. You’re a great driver with a shitty fucking team I hated reporting on last season.” He laughs shakily. “You know I look up to you. You know… you know I love you.”

“I do. I love you.”

“I always have. It wasn’t… it didn’t always make itself clear, but I always have. And I know I always will.” You smile. “We’ll be in different cities, in separate timezones, but if we survived the years of not telling each other how bloody fucking much we liked each other, this is nothing. When we’ve sorted ourselves out, we’ll know the right time to finally call this what it is.”

He’s never thought of himself as a writer, but his notebooks might beg to differ. Many times you’ve told him yourself that he has an affinity for describing things, especially when he lets go of language as a limitation. He wonders what you’d say if you knew the amount of times he’s tried to write about you. Careful letters or typefaces, in an effort to form a coherent picture of you, the way he sees you, the way he loves you. But he’s so scared he tears the pages off before they get too intimate, too personal, crossing the border from having a crush on you to being in love with you.

For once he’s not. He nods. It’s bittersweet, but it’s a segue to a better ending. He moves a hand over your hair and holds you close.

“You could never be unlovable,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead because finally, he can. “I mean it.”

[amirasainz]

as someone who is currently badly injured, I would love to see Carlos and the drivers+WAG'd reactions to Baby! Sainz getting injured, like a broken bone

i love your writing so much!!! 💗💗

Hi love! I'm so sorry to hear that. I hope you'll be fine again soon. I hope you'll enjoy this little piece for you! 💕 My requests are always open and feedback is very much welcome. -XoXo

The broken arm

You know that moment when terror spreads through your whole body? The voices around you become muffled, and your heart hammers in your chest. You can’t get enough air into your lungs. For one millisecond, you think this is the end. Your hands start to shake, and your body heat seems to drain away. Carlos felt all of this right now. For that brief moment, the world stopped. Everything froze. His eyes remained glued to the floor, which stared right back at him. The color drained from his face. In that fleeting instant, Carlos wished the world would swallow him whole.

When he took his next breath, everything around him sprang back to life. He heard Kika and Alex crying, Oscar and Lewis arguing with the nurse, Lando fainting and falling, Charles taking deep, shuddering breaths, Carmen and George trying to console each other, Lily pacing the floor, Alex staring shell-shocked at the wall, Max rubbing his hands up and down Kelly’s leg, and Pierre cursing in French.

It was all too much. The only thing keeping Carlos from spiraling was Rebecca. She knelt down in front of him and took his face in her hands. “Hey, Carlos. Everything is okay. She’s alright. It’s just a broken arm.” Oh, how his heart broke.

No one would have thought that before 8 p.m., the hospital would be flooded with drivers and WAGs. Why? Because Amira Sainz accidentally slipped down the stairs. And boy, did that hurt. When she was on the floor again, she was surrounded by people. Before anyone could ask her anything, she started crying. That was all it took for the group, including Mamá and Papá Sainz, to rush to the hospital.

When the nurse emerged and informed them that his little sister had broken her arm, chaos erupted. The group’s loud reactions drew plenty of attention, but in their defense, the nurse had just shattered their hearts.

“It’s just a broken arm. She’ll be fine in 4 weeks.”

Four weeks! That couldn’t be right. While the atmosphere outside felt like the onset of an apocalypse, inside Amira’s room, it was surprisingly calm.

Mamá gently stroked Amira’s hair, while Papá held her hand (the uninjured one). “Estás bien, mi princesa. Eres tan valiente en este momento,” Mamá whispered sweetly in her ear. Reyes and Carlos Sr. knew how terrified their daughter was of hospitals, so they both did their best to reassure her.

The kind doctor addressed her."Señorita Amira, in four weeks, everything will be okay again. Just be careful not to get the cast wet.” Carlos Sr. thanked the doctor, and Reyes asked, “Are you ready to go, mi hija?” Amira nodded quickly, and with Papá’s assistance, she hopped down from the bed, still holding his hand. After all, she was his daughter.

As they returned to the entrance, they were met with a crowd of people. Over the next four weeks, Amira was treated like the little princess she truly was.

Carmen and George accompanied her on walks through the park. Charles and Alex visited with Baby Léo. Max shared some silly Red Bull rumors while Kelly gently painted her nails. Yuki prepared meals for her. Lewis pampered her with skincare routines. Alex and Lily joined her for movie nights, watching all her favorite films. Lando engaged in playful games with her. Kika and Pierre exchanged gossip. Oscar, Lily, and she went shopping together. They all did things for her, and she felt immense gratitude.

Yet, her most cherished moments were when Carlos and Rebecca were present. Her brother always cooked her favorite dishes, while Rebecca patiently braided her long hair. During those moments, everything felt calm. “Are you okay, darling?” Rebecca inquired. Amira glanced over her shoulder and quietly replied, “Yes.” Becca smiled, kissed her cheek, and resumed braiding, both of them engrossed in their show. As for Carlos, he relished seeing his two favorite girls bonding. But just as he settled into the scene, an odd smell reached his nose. When he turned around, he discovered the pizza had burned.

"Fuck…."

[forzalando]

what if?

unrequited love, best friend!lando blurb request from @foreveralbon! liyah gave me the choice of which side the unrequited love came from and unfortunately, i chose to break lando’s heart. please forgive me. i tried to find a pic where he looked a little sad but i don't want him sad so i strayed completely from the vibe of this blurb. also yes, if anyone was wondering, i named the male oc aaron because of aaron hotchner. can't tell if i love or hate this so go easy on me lol pairing: fem!reader x best friend!lando (platonic), fem!reader x oc male word count: 2.1k summary: it’s finally time for your friends to meet someone special. you’re in love with him, and lando has to come to terms with that. tw: unrequited love, heartbroken lando

Your phone buzzed from across the room, a familiar ringtone echoing through the air letting you know that Lando was finally returning your call.

“I sincerely hope you haven’t been avoiding me because you’re planning on ditching my dinner party tonight,” you scolded as soon as you picked up the phone.

“I would never,” Lando gasped. “I was on the sim and had my phone on silent – do you need me to bring anything? How many people will be there?”'

“Oh, not too many at all, I’ve got everything I need. I asked Max, Pietra, Carlos, Rebecca, Charles, and Alex. Oh, and Maxie is coming and bringing someone, can you believe it? I’m so glad he’s finally moving on from Kelly. Oscar and Lily can’t make it – he’s got a family thing, but he promised a double lunch ‘date’ when they’re back in Monaco next week.”

“Geez, why are all of our friends in loving relationships or dating except us, huh? Look at us, the old spinsters!”

You didn’t miss the sadness in his voice even though he tried to mask it with a joke, which made your next admission even harder than you thought it would be.

“Actually, I have someone I want you to meet,” you said quietly.  “His name is Aaron and he’ll be here tonight.”

“Really?” Lando coughed, hoping to mask the sound of himself choking on air. “It must be pretty serious for you if he’s meeting all of us – how, um, how long? Have you been seeing him?”

You knew he’d ask and you didn’t want to answer, afraid that he would be upset you’ve kept this from him for so long. You’ve always shared everything with him for the past five years, but for a few subjectively good reasons, you’d kept this a secret until now.

“Please don’t be mad,” you mumbled. “I’ve been seeing him for about seven months but I wasn’t hiding it on purpose or anything, I swear, I just didn’t want to ask you to prioritize meeting my boyfriend during the season. It was too soon to introduce you over summer break, now was just the best time.”

You heard Lando exhale on the other end of the line – whether it was a sigh of annoyance, relief, or anger, you couldn’t tell.

“I get it, don’t worry,” he forced out. “I know I’m never around. I’m excited to meet him, I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

Before you could say anything else, Lando ended the call.

Lando hadn’t taken his eyes off of you the entire evening – introductions had gone perfectly, all of your friends seemed to love Aaron, conversation was flowing smoothly, but it was painfully obvious, at least to you, that something was up with Lando.

You’d barely gotten through dessert when the onslaught of relationship questions started coming your way – mainly from Charles, if you can believe it. Aaron had started on cleaning up the kitchen and Charles didn’t hesitate to bombard you as soon as Aaron had left the room.

“So, how did you guys meet? How did he ask you out? Tell me everything.”

“Charles!” Alex scolded. “Don’t interrogate her, she’ll tell us if she’s ready!”

You smiled in thanks at Alex, although you knew she was just as eager to hear you tell the tale.

“Actually, I have Lando to thank,” you smiled at Lando, turning your attention towards him for a brief moment. “The day we met, I was supposed to be having lunch with him but he got caught up in a meeting and was running way late. Aaron saw me sitting alone and thought I’d been stood up, introduced himself, and then gave me this cheesy line about how someone was missing out on a date with the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Rebecca sighed and fixed her gaze on Carlos – “why aren’t you that romantic?”

“I’m perfectly romantic,” Carlos countered. “Remember when I – ”

Pietra interrupted and shushed him abruptly, “Y/N isn’t done talking, you can defend yourself later.”

“Anyway,” you laughed, “I told him that I was waiting for my best friend and he offered to buy me a drink while I waited, but Lando had texted about five minutes before that he was on his way. So, I turned him down, but he left a note with the hostess and asked her to give it to me when I was on my way out. It was just the next day’s date, a time, and the name of a wine bar nearby signed with his name. I showed up and the rest is history, he charmed me.”

“I didn’t know it was Lando you were waiting on,” Aaron chimed in, walking into the dining room. He stopped next to Lando’s chair, holding his hand out for a handshake. “As a lifelong McLaren fan, I never thought I’d be thanking Lando Norris for arriving late, but thank you. You changed my life that day.”  

Lando slowly shook his hand and with gritted teeth responded, “Yeah, man, no problem. Glad I could help, seriously.”

From the looks on everyone’s faces, it was now clear to you that you weren’t the only one who noticed something was wrong with Lando.

He’d barely said a word all evening, and from the tone of his voice, it definitely was a problem and he was not glad he could help.

“It’s a little stuffy in here, I’m going to get some air,” you announced, rising quickly from your chair. “Lando, come with me? Aaron, I’ll finish up in the kitchen later, why don’t the rest of you get comfortable in the living room?”

Begrudgingly, Lando followed you out to your patio. It was surprisingly chilly for mid-December and the sudden gust of wind that pulled a shiver from you wasn’t helping at all. You had barely stopped shivering when you felt Lando’s jacket drape across you, his hands smoothing the shoulders down before he took his place next to you against the balcony.

“There he is,” you crooned. “My kind and considerate best friend.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You turned your head to face him rather than look at the view, your eyebrows furrowing together and a sick feeling creeping into your stomach.

“Do you not like Aaron?” You asked quietly, the frown on your face deepening. “Everyone else seems to love him, did he say something to you? You were a little…off just now, are you mad he’s a McLaren fan? I promise you, he is not dating me to get to you or any other crazy idea you may have concocted. He didn’t even know we were friends for the first three months.”

Lando didn’t answer you, his eyes still trained on the Mediterranean Sea in the distance. He was picking at his fingernails – something he only did when he was anxious or upset.

“Please say something,” you pleaded. “I, gosh I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I'm in love with him, Lando. If you have reservations or concerns, please be honest with me. Your opinion means a lot to me, more than I thought it would.”

The silence was deafening – still no response for what felt like ages, the sick feeling in your stomach growing more prominent with every passing second.

“You love him?” Lando finally spoke, looking down, out, away – anywhere but at your face.

“Yes, I do. Like, a scary amount. I’m terrified, actually, but in the best way. I never thought I’d find love like this, Lan.”

“Well, that’s a problem, isn’t it?” Lando laughed, a humorless laugh, and backed away from the railing to sit on one of your deck chairs – his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

Before you could voice your confusion, he looked up at you, a sadness in his eyes you’d never seen before.

“He’s annoyingly wonderful and perfect for you, Y/N,” he began. “As soon as I walked in tonight, I knew. He barely let you lift a finger, remembered facts about everyone in there and was sincerely happy to get to know everyone. He gravitates towards you, smiles whenever you speak, always wants to be near you, and holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him. He treats you how I would treat you if I were lucky enough to be in his shoes. And the way he looks at you? I know that look,” he paused, closing his eyes tightly. “It’s the way I look at you.”

The sick feeling in your stomach turned to dread and you felt your heart squeezing in your chest, a mix of a gasp and a sob climbing out of your throat.

“Lando, I – ”

“It’s ok,” he smiled, staring directly at you with watery eyes. “I love you. I know it’s one-sided, and that’s ok. I promise you, it’s okay. I just needed you to know, and not because I thought it would change your feelings for him or to confuse you, you just deserve to know. I’ve kept it from you for far too long and I wish this wasn't how or why I finally told you.”

Tears spilled from your eyes, your hand shaking as you reached for Lando’s, gripping it so tight you thought you might leave a bruise.

“I’m sorry, Lando,” you cried. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I – I never would have made you come or said those things if I had known.”

Guilt crawled its way into the mix of emotions swirling inside you. Some of your friends and family members had alluded to his feelings for you over the years, but you always ignored them, insisting that you were just friends, best friends, but you secretly sometimes felt that there may be some truth in it. You wished more than anything in that moment that you had taken that feeling more seriously.

“I didn’t want you to know, it’s my fault you didn’t know,” Lando insisted. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“If you need some time, some distance, I can respect that,” you offered, though the thought of Lando agreeing to that was unbearably painful.

“No, no, I’ll be ok. It’ll take some time for me to move on but I’d rather deal with the pain of being close to you while I get over you than not have you in my life for however long it takes. All that matters to me is that you’re happy, and if Aaron makes you happy, I can live with that.”

Selfishly, you sighed in relief, squeezing the hand you were holding before pulling away from him. Your friendship would feel different for a while, but you could manage different; you could manage anything as long as Lando remained a fixture in your life.

“I think I’m going to go,” he whispered, rising from the chair and sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’ve made things awkward enough for one evening, don’t you think?”

You started to assure him he did no such thing, but when you saw the smirk on his face you knew he’d said it to try to relieve the heaviness that had settled over you. You handed him back his jacket, smoothing the shoulders down once he’d put it on just as he did for you earlier. Small, tentative smiles graced both of your faces before you pulled him into a gentle hug, hesitating just enough to allow him to back away if it was too much for him.

He squeezed you once tightly and then let go – the quickness of it expected, but the fact he accepted it at all gave you hope that everything would be ok.

You watched him as he reached for the door handle to go inside, but he paused and turned around just before he grabbed hold.

“Would it have made a difference? If I had told you before you met him?”

You weren’t sure which answer would hurt him more, but you were always honest with him and that wasn’t going to change now.

“No, Lando, it wouldn't have. I do love you, I always have and always will, but I'm not in love with you. I've never thought of you in that way, I'm sorry.”

He nodded once, accepting your answer, and then he was gone. You were being truthful, and Lando knew without a doubt that you were, but he also knew in his heart and soul that you would always and forever be his biggest “what if?”.

-----------

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[swiftiethatlovesf1]

What is this feeling? p.2

Heyy guys, here's part 2, if you've missed part 1 here it is.

I need your opinions, I thought of doing Max x Reader x Charles but I just love Reader x Max, do you want me to add Charles to the mix or keep it simple with Max??

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the Monaco skyline in a golden hue as Kelly adjusted her hair for the third time that evening. She smoothed her dress and waited impatiently by the terrace where Max stood, casually leaning against the railing, scrolling through his phone.

"Max," she started, voice tinged with nervous excitement. "I was thinking, there's a party tonight. Charles is hosting, and it's going to be incredible. You should come."

Max looked up, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint, polite smile. "Oh, yeah? Charles does throw good parties," he said noncommittally, slipping his phone into his pocket.

Kelly’s heart raced. "It would be fun," she pressed. "You and me, you know, we could—"

Max cut her off gently, though his tone was firm. "Why don’t you go with the other girls? Lily’s probably going, right?"

Kelly’s face fell for a brief moment, but she quickly recovered. "Lily’s nice, but I was hoping—"

Max waved it off casually, already turning his attention elsewhere. "Lily’s great. She’s close with YN, isn’t she? You should invite both of them. It’ll make it more fun for everyone."

Kelly blinked, confused by the sudden mention of YN. "YN? I don’t think she’s into these things. She’s not really… a party person."

Max shrugged, playing it cool. "She might surprise you. Anyway, I’ve got to go, but you should ask her." He gave a quick nod and walked off, leaving Kelly fuming.

Later That Evening

Lily knocked on YN’s door with an unrelenting grin. "You’re coming," she declared, holding up a dress she had borrowed specifically for her.

YN looked up from her laptop, eyebrows raised. "To Charles’ party? You know I don’t do those things."

"Which is why you should do them," Lily countered, pushing past her and holding the dress up against her. "Come on, when was the last time you let loose? Charles invited you, Max will be there, and… wait, do I really need to keep listing reasons?"

YN rolled her eyes. "Max is always there. What’s the big deal?"

Lily smirked knowingly but didn’t press. "Just come. It’ll be fun. And if it’s awful, you can leave early. Deal?"

The party was already in full swing by the time YN arrived with Lily. Music spilled out of Charles’ party, and the atmosphere buzzed with energy. YN adjusted the hem of her dress, already second-guessing her decision to come.

As they stepped inside, heads turned. YN rarely made appearances at events like these, and the surprise on everyone’s face was almost comical. Kelly, sipping her drink at the bar, narrowed her eyes when she saw Max’s reaction.

He was talking to Charles, his usual calm demeanor replaced with something more alert as his gaze followed YN across the room. Charles noticed immediately and smirked, nudging him.

“Well, look who decided to join the living,” Charles teased, striding over to greet her with his signature grin.

“You can thank Lily for that,” YN replied, her eyes scanning the room. “Where is she, anyway?”

“Probably convincing Alex to dance,” Charles said with a laugh. “Speaking of which—Max!”

Max looked up from his drink, his expression unreadable as Charles waved him over.

“Come dance with us,” Charles said, looping an arm around YN’s shoulders.

“I don’t dance,” Max said flatly, though his gaze lingered on YN for a moment longer than necessary.

“You’re so boring,” Charles teased before turning to YN. “Then it’s just you and me.”

Before YN could protest, Charles pulled her onto the dance floor, twirling her in a way that was equal parts elegant and playful. She couldn’t help but laugh, the weight of her usual guardedness slipping away under the pulsating lights.

As the song shifted into something slower, Charles spun her one last time before stepping back with a wink. “Your turn, Max.”

“What?” Max looked genuinely annoyed, but Charles had already slipped away, leaving YN and Max standing awkwardly in the center of the dance floor.

“You don’t have to—” YN started, but Max surprised her by stepping closer.

“I’m already here,” he muttered, offering his hand.

Cautiously, YN took it, and Max led her into a slow sway. It wasn’t graceful or practiced, but there was something grounding about the way they moved together, surrounded by chaos yet entirely focused on each other.

“You’re full of surprises tonight,” YN said, her tone teasing but soft.

Max smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”

Their eyes met briefly, and for the first time, the tension between them felt less like a wall and more like a bridge.

As the music picked up again, Max released her hand and stepped back. “Don’t let Charles drag you into too much trouble.”

YN raised an eyebrow. “And what about you?”

“I’ll manage,” Max said, turning toward the bar. But as he walked away, he couldn’t help glancing back at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

The night stretched on with laughter, music, and a little more dancing. For the first time in a long while, YN felt like she wasn’t just an outsider in the paddock but part of something larger—something fun.

And as Max watched her laugh with Charles and Lily from across the room, he realized that maybe, just maybe, YN wasn’t as much of an enigma as he thought. She was just... herself. And somehow, that was enough to keep him intrigued.

Even if he’d never admit it out loud.

@justaf1girl, @anamiad00msday

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Wide Awake

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Wolff!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Self-Doubt, age-gap (reader is 22), slight smut (just fingering) , oh and slight orgasm denial.

(SOFIA IS A RANDOM GIRL I MADE UP!)

A/N: This was supposed to just be a one off thing but I kept writing and writing and I'm 99% sure that no one wants to read a 25k worded chapter only for it to BARELY get to the whole point/plot of the fic. so there's going to be another chapter (3 at max)

(Also I promise Too Good To Say Goodbye 7 is coming but I was hyper fixated on trying to finish this which isn't happening ) 🫶🏽😊

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My dad’s always warned me about getting involved with the drivers. He told me that they’re all too young, naive and that all they’ll be good for is breaking my heart. For the longest time, I believed him. I’ve seen the way some of these young drivers were with girls.

Max cheating on Sofia with Kelly, Lando talking to 3 girls at once and George, well George hasn’t done anything. Point is, I’ve seen how they are and I don’t want to get with one of the young drivers only to have my heart ripped out. AGAIN.

I secretly dated one of the hottest drivers, Charles Leclerc for about 2 months. All was going well we were happy, we had secret dates and maybe I thought he was the one.

That was until one day In Monaco when I showed up to the paddock for Free Practice 1 & 2 I saw him hand-in-hand with Alexandra Saint Mleux. When I saw them together and I realized everything she had that I didn’t. She was at taller than me, skinnier, gorgeous, had flawless skin and had a modeling career. In other words, she was a goddess.

Seeing them together broke my heart and all I wanted to do was curl into a ball and sob, but I couldn’t. My dad warned me about the young drivers but I still went behind his back and did the exact opposite of what he told me not to do. I deserved this.

I had made a beeline for the Mercedes garage just to get out of the public eye but I was so focused on getting as far away from Charles and Alexandra as possible that I hadn’t noticed I was running straight into someone.

I hit this person's body with such force I almost went flying back and I reached my hands out in front of me to try and grab anything for stability and at the same time I felt two hands on either sides of my waist trying to balance me.

I was feeling so many different emotions right now I couldn't even think straight, clearly. I was so angry at Charles for cheating on me even if weren’t technically even dating, sadness because I actually thought Charles was actually capable of loving me, and full fledged embarrassment because I just ran full on into someone thinking about how Charles just ruined my life. And my makeup.

I looked up to face the person I just ran into and tried to profusely apologize for my actions, but when I looked up tho I was met with the most gorgeous brown eyes I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I wanted to stare into his eyes forever but in the half a second it took me to look up I also realized who it was that I ran into.

The 7x WDC Lewis Hamilton.

Even more embarrassment coated my face as I realized that not only did I just bump into someone while trying so hard not to have a mental breakdown but I ran into the Lewis Hamilton, my dad's best and most loved driver. “Oh my gosh Lewis, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going and I really didn’t mean to run into you. Please don’t tell my dad” Honestly, it sounded pathetic. ‘Don’t tell my dad’? what are you, 12?

I stared at him in silence for about all of 2 seconds which felt like an eternity until I saw his lips curled up into a smile and heard a small chuckle come from him. “I won’t tell your dad, cross my heart” Lewis said while making an ‘X’ motion over his chest “Who are you running from? I feel like maybe I'm obligated to know since you ran right into me trying to avoid them?”

My face fell in shock. How did he know I was trying to avoid someone? I mean it wasn't rocket science, if I saw a random girl running to an isolated area with tears streaming down her face, I too am going to assume she's avoiding someone. “I- Uh, Well. See”

“It’s okay, Y/N/N, I’m not going to tell anyone. You also don’t have to tell me if you don't want to but I’m willing to help you avoid them if you do.” Lewis said as he placed a hand on my cheek.

I’ve always found comfort in Lewis’ touch. Actually, I’ve always felt comfort whenever I was in the same room as Lewis. Something about his Aura screamed ‘You’re safe with me’

As much as I wanted to, I knew there was no point in lying because one thing about Lewis is that could read people like a book. Including me. With a long, loud and dramatic dragged out sigh I reluctantly told him the truth.

“I was seeing Charles behind my father’s back for about 2 months, everything was going well and I actually kinda thought he was my person but I just now saw him hand-in-hand and all cuddly with Alexandra.” Tears sprung in my eyes and threatened to fall as I recounted what I saw a few minutes prior to Lewis.

He had a sympathetic look in his face and I could tell he genuinely felt bad for me. The hand Lewis once briefly had on my face had moved down to grab my hand before he whispered, "How about this: Tomorrow we wear almost matching outfits and we come back here also hand-in-hand. We'd be together all day and we'll be cuddly too. You know, just to make Charles jealous and regret cheating on you."

Lewis was always putting people's well-being ahead of his and it made a shy smile creep onto my face. As much as I want to, maybe I shouldn't read too much into this though, he's probably just being nice to me to stay in my father's good graces.

"Lewis," I whispered as I placed my hand on his cheek "You don't have to be nice to me because I'm your boss's daughter"

he looked a bit hurt by my accusations. "Is that why you think I'm doing this?" his hand squeezed mine a little tighter.

"Why else would you, Lewis?" his hands came up to cup my face forcing me to look at him.

"Because Y/N/N, I-" he paused, almost like he was trying to find the right words to use. "I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world. I've seen you sneaking around with Charles and it took so much in me not to go over there and tear you away from him, to show him that you're mine. I know I'm older than you but I'm wiser and I'll treat you better than he can." My jaw dropped, there's no way that Lewis Hamilton, a 7x WDC is head over heels in love with me, right?

"Lew, I-" a voice interrupted me, turning my body into stone and my blood into ice.

"Y/N!" I knew that voice anywhere and if he saw the moment that me and Lewis just shared, we were both dead.

"Dad! Hi!" I tried to sound enthusiastic but I was so flushed from Lewis' confession.

"My baby," His hands cupped my face inspecting the red all over "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I'm just hot. You know how the sun is in Monaco." I said with a shrug, trying to change the subject

"Oh you have to go in the AC! Lewis," my dad turned to face Lewis who was already facing in our direction

"Yes, Toto?" he said as he cocked his brow.

"I need you to take my darling girl inside. She has a condition where she can't sweat which causes her to overheat and pass out. I am too busy with this race and getting everything perfect to be worrying about my daughter having a heat stroke."

"Oh, jeez, thanks dad. Just send Lewis to do everything for you" I said in a playful tone

"Of course Toto, I'll take her in right now." Lewis said as he walked over to me and linked his arms with mine.

Lewis started guiding me through the garage and to his driver's room where he opened the door and gestured me in. Once inside he closed the door before facing me with unsure eyes.

"What's wrong Lew?" I said as I cautiously walked over to him.

"What were you going to say before Toto cut you off?" his voice so low, I almost didn't hear what he said.

"I was going to say," I stopped right in front of him, our chests were touching. We were so close I could feel his breath against my skin. "I think that you have to prove what you said about treating me better than how Charles did."

Lewis grabbed my face and pulled me into a searing kiss, our tongues fought for dominance but his won. Lewis picked me up and sat on his couch with me on his lap so I was straddling him all without breaking the kiss.

His hands found their rightful place on my hips and applied pressure forcing my hips down as I rocked my hips to apply more force against his hardening cock.

"Mmm, you taste so good. I can only imagine how much better you taste when I'm eating your pussy." Lewis mumbled against my lips as his hands went just a little bit lower to stop at the elastic of my leggings. I guided Lewis' hands under the fabric to release some of the tension building in my core.

He understood what I needed and quickly started to run his middle finger up and down my fold, collecting all my juices before inserting it in my pussy. Lewis slowly moved his finger in and out of my hole while using his thumb to rub circles on my clit. His movements were slow and sensual bringing me closer and closer to my orgasm. I started rocking my hips into his palm to add more friction to my core and to chase my orgasm which I really needed right now. I was just about to go over the edge until a knock at the door quickly halted both of our movements and caused Lewis to yank his hand out of me leaving me without finishing.

"Mate, FP2 starts in 15. They need us by our cars now" The voice of George could be heard from he other side of the door.

“Oh fuck me” I grunted as I pulled myself off of Lewis’ lap

“Trust me, I was planning on it” He said with a smirk on his face as his hand came to rest on my ass before giving it a smack.

Lewis poked his head out of the door to make sure no one would see us leave, after the all clear we quickly rushed out of his room, both of us going in opposite directions as to not get caught.

————

The next day I heard a knock at my hotel door at the early hours of 6:00am. With a grunt I pulled myself out of the comfort of my warm and cozy bed and made my way to the door. Whoever was interrupting my beauty sleep was going to get a mouthful, I’ll tell you that.

“Do you know what time it is?!” I whisper yelled as I opened the door, not even bothering to look through the peephole to see who I would be yelling at. And boy do I really wish I did look because I was met with the tall, beautiful, muscular frame of Lewis Hamilton.

“Woah honey, I told you we were going to the paddock together. We need matching outfits” Lewis said while looking at me up and down "Do you by any chance have a matching Tommy Hilfiger set?"

"No?" I said, a little nervous

"Perfect, I bought you one that matches mine so put this on" Lewis said as he handed me a bag of 4 different sets.

"Lewis, there's four sets in here. Which am I wearing?" I said I let him in my room and watched as he took a seat on my bed right were I was once peacefully sleeping.

"Wear whichever one you want and I'll match it. I didn't know which of those four you'd like so I bought them all." My heart fluttered a bit at his confession.

--------

When Lewis and I pulled up to the race and got out of the car, we walked to the entrance hand-in-hand.

Charles and Alexandra were the first people to spot us and I took notice on how Charles dropped Alexandra's hand. When I saw that I squeezed Lewis' hand and leaned into him to tell him

"Lew, it's working. He dropped Alexandra's hand" I said with a smirk on my face.

"Wanna give them a show?" I cocked my brow at what he was suggesting but reluctantly nodded my head.

Without thinking twice, Lewis pulled me into a kiss, his hand finding their place to rest on my ass while mine traveled to the back of his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss.

I heard a strings of words which I'm assuming were curse words before I heard faint shuffles of feet echoing away from where me and Lewis were stood. Faint footsteps weren't the only thing we heard because next thing you know we heard clicks of camera shutters.

I pulled away from him with a horrified look on my face.

"Lewis! My dad might see those!" I don't think I was ever more scared in my life than I was in that moment. My dad can't know that I'm sneaking behind his back with Lewis. Well technically this is the second day of this 'sneaking around' but still, he doesn't know."

"Do you want to be with me Y/N/N?" He said dead serious while interlocking our hands

"Yes"

"So you shouldn't care about the pictures and your dad's opinion. Not everyone is going to accept our relationship but that doesn't matter because this relationship is between us. Not them"

"I need FP3 and Qualifying to end ASAP because I so badly want to suck your cock."

“I’m holding you to that” Lewis said as he swatted my ass. Surely the press people got photos of that and when those get out. I’m gonna have a fun conversation with my dad

It took us about 15 minutes to get the Mercedes Hospitality area because of all the fans asking for pictures, Press asking questions and other drivers asking what Lewis thinks he’s doing going out with me.

I almost took offense to that but quickly realized that they didn’t mean it in a rude way but more as a ‘you better be careful because if you break her heart, Toto will never resign you to Mercedes’ type of way.

When we entered, we were met with the angry eyes of my father.

“Lewis.” He said stern, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose “what are you doing with my daughter?!”

“Sir,” Lewis started but my dad cut him off

“Y/N/N, I told you not to go off with the drivers!” His voice raised, not too loud to be classified as yelling but a couple octaves louder than how it was before

“Actually, you said no messing around with the younger drivers. Lewis is older and more wise” I said as I grasped Lewis’ hand tighter.

“What are your intentions with my daughter?”

“Well sir, I intend to give your daughter the best life I can give her, I want to take her everywhere with me, I want to spoil her, I want to have her move in with me, I want to be her husband and I want her to be the mother of my kids.” Lewis squeezed my hand as he said that last sentence.

I never thought about being a mother, I never felt like it was an obligation of mine. I never thought that I wanted kids but hearing Lewis admit to my dad that he wanted me to be the mother of his kids sparked something in me. Lewis made me realize that deep down, I longed to be a mom and now I wasn’t going to be happy if I wasn’t.

“I will kill you if you break her heart.” My dad stated as he stared in Lewis’ eyes as if to try and intimidate him.

—————

It's not the best but I promise the plot is to die for!

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[bloodyymaryyy]

Jewellery

Charles leclerc x reader

Masterlist

(author's note : hello beautiful people I tried to make it a bit smau for the first time but I don't like it at all but I will include a few "tweets" as the story continues it might be cringe by the way it was written)

Warnings : might be cringe (sorry), my writing, not proofread, English is not my first language

2 years ago :

Hearing people say that gifts like necklaces, bracelets and rings is a gift where it will be appreciated by everyone and mostly won't be taken of or thrown away sounded like the best gift.

Not knowing what to get your rich boyfriend for his frist birthday you decided to gift him a bracelet simple but sentimental with a cute message in the inside of it saying a few loving words with red letter being his favourite color too.

When you showed up to his apartment so you can head out to the dinner he had planned to and is going to wait for his friends to spent his special day to celebrate him.

A little bag in your left hand and your purse to the other walked towards him, kissing him gently in his lips to not mess up your lipstick and not transfer your lipstick to him you whispered to his lips happy birthday before kissing him again and stepping away from him and handing him his present

"I know it's not much because you can literally buy the whole store but I hope you like it!" Y/n said and smiled up to her boyfriend with adoration. "Do you want to open it now or later?"

" No why are you saying that? Whatever you get me I am sure I am gonna love it, no I want to open it now."

And that's what he did, he opened the bag and sew the box that contained the bracelet, opening again the box he saw it and set down the bag and the box inspecting it

"I love it mon cherie" he said and lined in gör a kiss

"No look at the inside mon amor"she cut him off "oh" he exclaimed now noticing the inside with the red letters "Oh mon dieu bébé, je l’aime et toi" he exclaimed again switching to his mother language and put it on and hug her tightly (oh my god baby I love it and you)

After some time of talking to each other they headed out of his apartment and headed to the restaurant where he had a table ready for them and his friends, as they sat down his friends came one by one with their girlfriends. Piere with Kika, Lando with his best friend Max, Max with Kelly, his older brother Lorenzo with his girlfriend, his little brother Arthur with his girlfriend and his mother Pascal.

Having fun on the secluded area of the restaurant with everyone, eating and drinking laugher and chatter filled the room gifts from everyone in the head of the table where an empty sit was and Charles while talking with his brother and Piere took his girlfriend's hand interlocking their fingers looking at each other for a few seconds and returning back to their conversations

After a few hours they got up decided to go to a club and saying good night to his mother when she decided not to go and they spend their time time morning drinking shots and dancing before they headed home.

1 years ago :

Again deciding to get him the same gift, a bracelet with a different color in the diamonds and different message again stacking them, putting a fight to not take them off wanting to have them on his wrist to have a piece of her in his races when she couldn't come with him because of work

The fans pointing out the silver bracelets that sat on his wrist shining and shimmering with the little diamonds with different colours and some other friendship bracelets from his fans having a field day each time they spot them and always getting the same answer

" My girlfriend got them for me, aren't they beautiful?" the same answer again and again melting the hearts of both his girl and his fans.

Present day:

Once again getting him the same bracelet with a message inside but with a necklace too that you saw on TikTok where their is a dogtag and under their is a outline of her body and sitting in a sexy pose and the words fuck me underneath the photo

To say the least he loved it it's an understatement but having it inside of his shirt so it doesn't accidentally turn around and reveal something so intimate for the whole world to see.

The bracelets now are famous watching as every year he has one added to the collection fans going feral with it

[ladysomething]

I forget, is it snippet wednesday or full chapter wednesday today?

hi!

it is snippet Wednesday, and I did post one last night, but after the day we've alll had .. fuck it, lets have another one.

this one will also be heavily edited before it makes it's way to ao3, so that's exciting! yay for seeing the process!

“You can talk to me,” Max murmurs, voice so endearingly awkward and unsure. “If you want. I—I’ll listen.” 

He’s so nice. He’s always so nice, always just wants to be kind to him, but Charles doesn’t think he deserves it. 

“Why would you do that for me?” Charles asks, sniffling loudly. 

It’s pathetic. He’s pathetic. 

“You know why,” Max answers, a little helplessly. 

Charles’ heart squeezes, so painfully it makes him whimper. He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve Max, and his unwavering loyalty, his dedication to keeping Charles safe even when he was being such a dick. He definitely doesn’t deserve to still have Max’s love, even when Charles can give him nothing back.

“I’m sorry,” Charles says, but it comes out almost as a sob. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ve been so mean to you and now you’re stuck with me forever and I can’t even . . .” 

“Stuck?” Max asks, clearly bewildered. Charles doesn’t blame him—he’s just as confused at his own behaviour. It makes him cry harder, because Max is being so gentle, even though Charles is acting crazy. “What on Earth makes you think I feel stuck? If anything, you’re the one stuck with me.” 

“You are,” Charles cries, fists tightening in Max’s shirt. “You’re so nice, and you always defend me, even though Lando was right, because I can’t make any food and you always have to do it and maybe I can’t have kids but everyone keeps telling me that you want them! I’ve ruined everything. I ruined your life, and my life, and what if I can’t even win the Championship? What if I’m not good enough? And—and—Kelly! What about Kelly? Jean-Luc is here, all the time, and not with Kelly and Penelope and it’s all my fault, I’m so stupid, I don’t know why all of you would do this for me! I’m not worth it, I’m not, Max, I’m so stupid.” 

Max rubs gentle, soothing circles on his back as Charles sobs desperately into his neck. He doesn’t even know where half of that came from, which just makes him cry more. 

What is he even saying? What is he talking about? He really is so fucking stupid—

“You’re not stupid,” Max whispers fervently. “Don’t even say that. You’ve been put in an awful situation and you tried to make the best of it. That doesn’t make you stupid.” 

Charles sobs loudly, rubbing his wet face against Max’s shirt. 

“Don’t be nice to me,” Charles whispers desperately. “I don’t deserve for you to be nice to me.”

[folkloresthings]

NORTHANGER ABBEY — send a muse + your favourite trope and i’ll write a drabble/blurb.

fernando alonso and falling asleep on their partner but it's nando who falls asleep

i love u sm <3 have a great day angel

for the nando podium today 🫶

SLEEPY. ❨ fernando alonso x reader ❩

never in your whole relationship with fernando had there been such an exciting race weekend. the first race back after the summer break and you couldn’t have been happier to accompany fernando to the dutch grand prix. exploring amsterdam, watching every free practice, taking an abundance of photos despite fernando’s protests.

what could you say? you were proud. two weeks spent lounging on a boat in spain, skin sun kissed and days long, you could sense fernando’s itch to get back on the track. you were the most important thing on earth to him, but racing was his element — and he looked so attractive doing it.

“good luck,” you whispered to him just before he got in the car, grasping at the front of his race suit. fernando pressed a doting kiss to your lips, admiring how you looked in the green aston martin jersey.

“see you on the other side,” he whispered back, pecking your nose sweetly before he slipped his helmet on and disappeared onto the track. like always, your blood pressure soared as he rounded each corner on the track; even more so when the rain started to pour on the dutch track.

but he crossed the finish line in P2, his seventh podium that season, and all of the love you had inside for him spilled across the aston martin garage. every engineer and worker in sight hugged you tighter than ever. arm linked in kelly’s, you watched as both boyfriends celebrated their wins. sprayed with champagne, fernando’s eyes found yours down below, and in one look you heard a million words. more clearly, just three.

he must have kissed you fifty times since getting off the podium, not caring what cameras were watching. he was ecstatic, leg bouncing in the car back to the hotel. max had invited everyone out for dinner, as it was his home race, but fernando could barely let you get ready for kissing you.

“nando, we’re going to be late if you don’t let me do my hair,” you giggle against his lips, the weight of his body on top of yours warm and comforting. he groans, slipping his chin into the crook of your neck.

“can we stay here?” he mumbles. “i’m tired. and i can think of better things to do than go out…”

his tone turns suggestive, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt. you slap at his teasing, shoving your boyfriend off of you with a roll of your eyes. in the reflection of the hotel mirror, his eyes never leave you. god, he was sickeningly in love with you.

“you look beautiful, mi amor,” he murmurs, muffled from the kiss he presses to your temple. dapper in his shirt and trousers, you happily snap a picture for your pleasure and drag him down to the hotel restaurant.

the dinner goes on for hours, full of food and drink and laughter. it’s around half past midnight when some drivers begin to fizzle out and go home, max and charles still ordering shots from the bar. you’re half listening to one of carlos’ stories when you feel a strange weight on your shoulder. tucked into your right hand side, fernando’s head has dropped to sleep on you, his hand still rested on your thigh.

you glance down, trying not to wake your tired boyfriend, and smile fondly. he was wrecked, after a day full of media commitments and congratulations after congratulations. the sight of him was adorable, lips turned downward and eyes gently creased at their sides. you were glad no one else had noticed, for fernando’s sake if nothing else, and gently roused him with a rub of his arm.

“baby? come on, let’s go to bed,” you whisper, and you swear your heart melts inside of you when his droopy eyes raise to yours. he was just adorable, furrowed brows and fingers squeezing at your skin. he nods silently, pulling himself up from the chair. you make your excuses for you both, kissing all of the boys goodbye, before you follow the sleepy fernando to the elevator.

you take his hand, guiding him the right way, and he finally rests against you when you’re inside of the lift. he smells vaguely of his cologne, faded from the long night, your face pressed to his chest as he sways you both gently in your climb to the twentieth floor.

“bed time?” he mumbles, drowsy, stepping out and heading towards your room. you nod in agreement, suppressing a giggle at his tired state. he lets you undress him when you’re safe behind locked doors, slowly and softly undoing every button on his shirt, leaving behind a trail of kisses on the skin underneath.

by the time your own dress is hung up and your makeup removed, he’s out like a light. taking a moment, you stand at the edge of the bed and admire him. his back muscles rippling every time he shifts on the mattress, hair already tousled. somewhere in your stating he wakes, at least you think, grunting and reaching out for you to join.

gladly, you appease him. under the covers, fernando bundles you up in his strong hold and doesn’t let go until morning. and even then, he’s not letting you go too far.

[fallingprincess]

i'll sink my teeth right into it

a vampire!Max x human!Charles Oneshot

"You have some strange kinks and are apparently into guys. So what?"

- "We both know that is not what was happening, Charles."

or the one where Charles finds out that his opponent is a vampire and also that he is kind of into it.

words: 4.7k

warnings: mentions of blood and sex but nothing graphic

≈

Hurriedly finishing up the text message to his mother Charles used his shoulder to push open the door to the club's bathroom. He pocketed his phone as he was about to step into a stall but then stopped in his tracks when his eyes fell onto the scene unfolding right in front of him.

Granted he was a little bit maybe a lot of bit drunk after this long and tedious sprint race weekend. Yet, what he saw sobered him up faster than a cold shower.

Reigning Formula One world champion and his rival since childhood days Max Verstappen had his back turned to him, one hand holding his large frame up against the wall, the other on the hip of a man Charles recognized as one of the bar staff of the club.

Motionless in shock Charles watched Max' mouth working against the smaller man's neck. The bartender's eyes were closed in bliss, a look of pure arousal sprawled on his face.

A strange jolt of electricity that Charles could not quite pinpoint ran through him causing him to take a deep audible gasp for oxygen.

Upon hearing the sound Max' head turned towards him at lightning speed and once his darkened eyes met his, Charles officially lost the last of his senses. Following a horrified glance at the other driver’s blood smeared lips Charles turned in place and marched right back towards the door. Whatever the fuck was going on here, he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. He had always secretly assumed Max was into some strange and weird shit, especially since him and Kelly had broken up last year. However this, this was a level he had not seen coming.

He lifted his hand to push open the door but instead of wood, his fingers connected with the material of a cold black dress shirt. How had he gotten there so fast? His eyes met the now once again blue toned ones of the other man who was currently using his shirt sleeve to wipe blood off his chin.

Maybe it was not blood, Charles tried to reason with himself, maybe this was some strange foreplay Max was into. Who was he to judge?

“Charles, wait.” Max’ voice was raspy yet strong. “Let me explain.”

Charles tried to shrug nonchalantly. “Explain what? "You have some strange kinks and are apparently into guys. So what?"

Max had the nerve to chuckle. "We both know that is not what was happening, Charles."

And he was right. Of course Charles knew. Or at least some part of him knew. Mainly he could not believe what he had witnessed. He still tried to make sense of it whilst trying his hardest not to stare at the red spot still prominent in the corner of Max’s mouth. It could not be. This was not real. This was some weird fetish shit. But deep down, Charles knew it wasn’t.

“Please let me explain.”, the Dutchmen tried again. “But not here. Meet me at the hotel? I have to take care of some stuff first.” He nodded his chin toward the bartender leaning against the restroom wall as if in a daze. “Please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to compel you. It fucks with your brain and you need your brain to drive. Please?”

Charles felt himself nod very slowly, his mind not catching up with the situation in any way whatsoever. Because this could not be real. This was some twisted prank and there were cameras everywhere. There had to be. Right?

“We are at the Hilton. This is my key card. I will meet you there, alright?”

Charles stared at Max’s extended hand, his heart beating so loudly he could hear the thumping in his ears. With one last confused yet horrified glance at Max’s face he reached for the card and then got the fuck out of there.

~

Save to say, this was not an ideal situation. Max knew he should have been more careful, should have looked for a locked room, should have taken the bartender back to the hotel. But he had been so thirsty, so filled with adrenaline after he had continued his winning streak. He had not been thinking straight until the warm liquid had been running down his ice cold throat. And even then it had been too late. Post bite clarity really was a thing he realized.

He felt strange knocking on the door to his own hotel room, but he had to try everything in his power to not scare the Monasque on the other side of it. Max could hear steps behind the wood, a faint heartbeat that rapidly grew in speed. It was obviously not his own.

The door opened and he got a look at Charles’ scared face as he waited for Max to come in.

Once they were alone and Charles was apparently happy with their positions - him close to the door and Max very far away from him, not that it would matter if it came down to it - he met his eyes. “What the actual fuck, Max?”

Max groaned. “Believe me, I did not want you to see this.”

“Well maybe you should have thought about that before using a public restroom to suck on some guy’s neck.”

He had him there. Post bite and all that.

“So..” Charles began and gestured wildly as he paced up and down the small space between the door and the bed. “It’s some weird fetish? Because if so, that is totally cool and also totally not my business.”

Oh, how Max wished it was. “It is not, no.”

Charles took a deep breath, his heart speeding up in the process, pumping more blood through his body to provide his lungs with oxygen. Thankfully, Max had just had his fill.

“So you were licking up that guy’s blood because…”

“Because I need it to survive, yes.” Max finished for him.

“Because you are…”

“A vampire.” Max sighed. “I know it sounds super cringey.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

Max sighed again and stood up to move right in front of the other man in the blink of an eye to prove a point. “Yes I am.”

Upon his suddenly close appearance Charles had pressed himself against the door, his eyes wide open in fear.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Charles. I’m not a monster.”

“You drank some guy’s blood!”

Max ran his hands through his hair and returned to the armchair on the other side of the room at normal speed.

“How long…I mean, you were a child when I was a child. I saw you!”

“It happened last year before I broke up with Kelly. It…it wasn’t safe for P to be around me anymore. It was better this way.” Max grimaced. The memory still pained him. One night of hell had turned his whole life around and destroyed the future he had imagined with the woman of his dreams and the girl he had thought of as his daughter. Now he was the asshole who abandoned them. But better the asshole who left than the asshole who lost control of himself and did things he would regret later on.

“Does she know? Kelly?”

Max shook his head, noticing that Charles' breathing pattern had slowed down as he seemed to wrap his head around this. It was happening rather fast. He was impressed. But then, Charles had always been rather methodical.

“The only people that know are GP and Horner. Not even my family knows.”

“But I saw your vitals and stuff on the Redbull screens. You have a heartbeat and all that.”

As he was saying: Methodical. Max liked that about Charles. In hindsight maybe it was good that he had walked in on his feeding instead of someone else.

“It’s all faked. Just please don’t tell anyone, okay? Not even Alex. Nobody.”

Charles scoffed. “Max, they would put me in a mental institution if I told them Max Verstappen is a vampire.”

“So you won’t tell people?”

“Obviously not.” Charles glanced at the door. “Just don’t eat from me or whatever it is you do, okay?”

Then he left without another word.

Max stared at the closed door. It definitely could have gone worse.

~

It was four weeks later and once again Max had found himself in a not so ideal situation. He was actually quite good at finding them, he noticed. Not that he was actually searching for them, they more so stumbled upon him and then he had to deal with the aftermath.

He was currently leaning against the bar in Lando’s apartment, who was celebrating his birthday. All had been fine. Max had socialized, Max had drunk alcohol to dull his senses, Max had pretended to be a human in every way he possibly could. He had made sure to breath, expanding and collapsing his chest in a speed that was appropriate and normal for the setting. He had slowed down his movements, avoided too much eye contact and pretended he could not hear the blood pumping through everybody’s veins in the room. It all had gone very very smoothly.

Until Martin had broken the glass, one of the shards slicing through the palm of his hands, the droplets of dark red blood falling onto the couch table.

Max had held still as a statue, his breathing stopped, convinced that just the scent would make him snap. He had eyed the door judging it as being too suspicious when he left now. This was truly very not ideal.

He was still motionlessly watching the moment of panic unfold, people yelling and bringing napkins and towels to clean up the blood everywhere - hands surely bled a lot, didn’t they? - when out of nowhere a warm hand wrapped around his still forearm and he got dragged along the hallway of the apartment and into Lando’s guest bedroom that was currently used as a coat storage for the guests.

The clicking of the door lock zoned him back into the moment and he stared at Charles’ concerned face in confusion.

“Your eyes are literally black, man. Get a hold of yourself.”, the Monasque scolded him and Max walked over to the floor length mirror by the closet to take a look at himself.

His cheeks were covered in dark blue veins, his irises expanded to their maximum size; he could feel the fangs poking against his bottom lip from the inside. God, he hoped in the chaos nobody had paid attention to him. Well, except for Charles, who had admittedly been avoiding him as best as possible in the past few weeks.

“Are you okay?” There was now more concern than anger in Charles’ voice, his French accent more prominent in the soft way he spoke.

Max closed his eyes, willing the blue to appear back in them, but to no avail. “I’m trying. It’s just…the smell…I haven’t fed in a bit…I…wow.”

“Alright. That’s okay.” Charles slipped right into problem solving mode as he ran his fingers through his already messy mop of hair. “We can fix this…okay���hm.”

Max watched him nod to himself in the mirror as he stepped closer and then opened the first few buttons of his dress shirt to expose his neck.

“Here. Bite me.”

Max spun in non-human speed and stared at his fellow driver. “Absolutely not. I promised you not to do that.”

Charles shrugged. “Well it’s this or going outside. What will it be, Max?”

~

Charles knew this was insane. Offering himself up to whatever the fuck Max was now as some sort of bait. Yet, he had to admit that ever since he had learned of Max’ little secret he had fallen down a rabbit hole of internet searches he only allowed himself to do when he was entirely alone using a VPN and incognito mode. He had found more info than expected, mostly shit probably but some accounts had sounded rather convincing to him. Above all, the common denominator had been that being bitten was a feeling like no other before.

Charles would not call himself curious by nature. He was more of the obsessive type. The type that had to have something once they put their mind to it. He had wanted to drive an F1 car, so he did. He had wanted to be part of Ferrari, so he was. He wanted to know what it felt like, so now he would.

“I can’t.”

“I don’t have HIV or something. Not sure if that matters.”

Max shook his head, the dark veins under his eyes fascinated and petrified Charles equally. “It’s not that. Just…there is too much muscle in your neck..it’s difficult…not that I like thought about it before…my brain just kind of does naturally….always…not that I ever would…bite you…until now…I guess”

Seeing a being that made his instincts scream RUN in a pile of stuttering mess made Charles chuckle quietly. “Where would be better for you then? It’s fine. Go for it. You have my permission, Max.”

Charles blinked, he swore that was the only thing he did. But suddenly he found himself shirtless on his stomach on the bed, all coats and jackets strewn across on the carpeted floor. He felt Max’s cold hands against his sides as he pressed him down against the mattress.

Fucking hell.

“Are you 100% sure about this?” Max questioned again, his fingers seemingly shaking in anticipation against Charles’ skin. “I will heal you right up after it, but it might make you weak for a bit.”

“Next weekend is not a race weekend. It’s okay.”

Charles knew instinctively that this was wrong, that he should neither allow nor encourage this. But god, if he did not want just this. Maybe Max was emitting some sort of weird pheromone that clouded Charles’ mind. It had to be that.

“Alright. This will be quite intense, you won’t be able to tell me to stop. Still sure?”

“Just fucking do it, Max!”

Before he could take his next breath, he felt cold soft lips against the side of his lower back. Shit. This was actually happening. Suddenly he felt very vulnerable in his position of prey. Charles flinched as something sharp pierced his skin in two spots, his abs tightened to distract from the pain of the piercing.

“It’s not even that inten- oh wow.”

Charles squirmed against the mattress as something wet - most probably Max’ tongue ran over his skin to collect the blood that had been pooling in the new wound on his back.

Charles could feel his muscles relax instantly, his brain clouded in some kind of fog that turned into different colors. He had never felt happier, it felt as if euphoria was pumped straight into his veins with every beat of his heart. He could almost hear the blood moving through him, being replaced with joy and colors and fireworks. He had never taken drugs before but he assumed this is what it felt like and now he understood how people got addicted to it.

Unable to move on his own accord, he heard himself moan somewhere far away in pure ecstasy. Was he even in this room anymore? Maybe his body was, his mind felt millions of miles away, swirling through galaxy after galaxy, the milky way just a small dot in the distance.

His hips moved against the mattress and he noticed he had gotten hard as another moan escaped him with the friction. God, he was aroused, and high, and most definitely not in control anymore. His hips kept rutting against the mattress, chasing a release he suddenly so desperately needed. Somehow he was watching himself from above, Max still sucking on the wound on his back, one of his cold hands stabilizing Charles’ hips, the other holding his own body up against the mattress.

Not able to help himself, Charles grunted and humped against the mattress at a feverish pace. He had never needed anything more in his whole life. He was craving it. He felt starved of whatever lay after.

Another deep groan escaped past his lips, this time muffled by a pillow that he was almost sure had not been next to his face moments ago. He clenched his jaw not to scream out a loud, instead he managed to huff out “Oh…fuck…Max…shit.” With a final rut he caught the release he had been running towards, his brain spinning and twirling through colors he was not sure even existed. He could hear the earth moving or maybe it was his own breathing. Everything was bright and ecstatic and wonderful.

And then everything went black.

~

With a satisfied smile on his lips Max watched Charles stir in his sleep. His messy hair fell softly into his face and he was almost jealous of the way his chest rose and fell all on its own.

Charles mumbled something that sounded like a mixture of French and Italian and then slowly blinked open his eyes against the ceiling light.

“Welcome back.” Max hummed, a little nervous to say or do anything else. He still could not believe that Charles had offered himself up as remedy for his own issues. He had always considered Charles to be one of his best friends to be honest but somehow he had not expected the other driver to feel the same way. And what other reason could there be for Charles' selfless act?

“Did I fall asleep?”

Max’ non-beating heart hurt at the soft sleepy voice that came from Charles. He had never heard him in any way that was not confident or pissed. “Sort of. You blacked out there for a bit.”

His face was still comfortably pressed into the pillow. “Your eyes are blue again.”

“Well, I was properly fed. A negative blood. Somehow I had thought you were gonna be more of a positive type by your smell.”

Charles groaned against the pillow. “What the fuck, Max?” He moved against the mattress only then realizing that Max had covered him with a blanket.

Max watched the other driver turn around to face him before glancing to the crotch of his jeans and grimacing disgustingly.

“Did I…?”

Max held back an anxious laugh and nodded slowly. “Happens more often than you would think.”

“I don’t think I have come in my pants since I was a kid, man.”

“I’m sorry.” Max wasn’t. He had to admit to himself that hearing the man thrash and moan under his body and touch had riled his bloodlust up even more. However, the Monasque didn’t have to know about that.

“It’s okay.” Charles said as he pushed himself up. “Are you feeling better now?”

Max nodded. He was sure an embarrassing blush would have appeared on his cheeks if that was still possible.

“Okay. Cool.” Charles looked around awkwardly. “I’m gonna clean this up. So…yea…bye.”

Max watched his back disappear though the door frame, his dark brown hair sweaty and matted in the base of his neck. He was not sure what to think. Somehow, he could still taste him on his lips. Somehow, he still craved more.

Well.

That was a problem for a later day.

~

Something that sounded an awful lot like something or someone walking against his couch in the other room woke Charles up from a restless dream. Ever since 'the second inchident' as he liked to call it that had happened at Lando's party his dreams had been filled with strange shapes and colorless blobs that appeared to close in on him the more he tried to wriggle away. He was very close to requesting sleeping pills at this point.

Listening closely he slowly moved his hand towards his phone on the nightstand. What if there was an intruder? Should he call the police? But what if nobody was there and a pillow had fallen off the cushion and he was just being paranoid about creepy monsters lurking in the dark and the police would laugh at him?

Another thud.

Should he go investigate?

Not bothering with putting on a shirt he quietly made his way to his bedroom door, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. What exactly was his plan here? Should he just make some noise to announce himself? Maybe whatever was out there would leave. Or maybe then they would know where to find him to kill him and eat his flesh. Wow, he was in desperate need of those sleeping pills.

Slowly and carefully he pulled the door towards himself, expecting the dark and empty hallway behind it.

What he definitely did not expect was Max, eyes black and cheens covered in veins.

Grasping at this chest Charles tried to take a breath but the shock would not let him. Struggling for air he took a few hurried steps back, his eyes never leaving Max - was it even Max? Or was it the creature that had now fully overtaken his body?

Charles' whole body was shaking as two cold sets of fingers wrapped around his naked arms, pressing him against the rough material of the bedroom wall. He wanted to scream, or to run, to do…literally anything except what he was doing now which was standing and staring in fear.

"Max.", he finally managed to choke out and this time it was the other man that went completely still.

"Max?" he tried again as the tight grip on his biceps began to loosen. Alright, maybe there was a chance he was not going to die after all.

Slowly Charles reached up to touch Max' vein-streaked cheek causing the other driver to blink a few times as if to clear his head. Yet still, Charles saw nothing but darkness and the drive to hunt in his eyes.

There had to be something he could do, right?

With the adrenaline still pumping through him he raised another shaky hand and placed it against the Dutchman's face gripping him tightly to force Max to look at him.

"Max. It's me. Okay? It's me." Max squinted at him, his cold fingers now holding onto Charles' waist. "Just me. I know you don't want to hurt me, Max."

Did he understand? How could Charles make him understand that he was neither his prey nor his enemy?

"Max." Charles leaned in. "It's just me." Should he really? "You don’t want to hurt me." Would he really? "It's me." A little closer. "You know me."

The moment his lips pressed against those of his fellow driver he felt the tension leave Max' body.

"Charles." He hummed against his mouth and then broke their faces apart just to go back in and lean his forehead against his.

Finally, Charles managed to take a full breath and opened his eyes, the usual blue he had seen so many times staring back at him.

"Thank you for not eating me." he laughed exasperated which made Max take a fast step backwards.

"I am so sorry. I don't even know how I got here. I … I'm so sorry! Fuck, I could have killed you!"

"Well luckily you didn’t." Charles ran his fingers through his sweat drenched hair. "I need to sit down. Fuck.”

Max stared at him intently. "I should go."

When he opened his eyes Charles was alone again.

~

“Do you have a minute?” Max was standing in front of Charles who was already in his fireproofs.

It had taken Max a lot of mental strength to walz his dead ass into the redbull area of the circuit to find the other driver. Because honestly: He was massively embarrassed about the other night. When he had come back to his senses Charles' lips had been pressed to his and finally Max managed to snap back into control. Up until that point he had merely been a spectator to the events leading up to his first kiss with Charles. Had it even been a kiss? If yes, he hated himself for not being fully present for it.

He had watched himself compel the doorman in the lobby to get him Charles’ emergency key from the safe. He had felt himself opening the apartment door to stalk through the dark, his mind and all his senses focused on one thing and one thing only: Blood. Specifically Charles’ blood. There was just something about his blood that had Max riled up and it was all he could think about day in night out.

When Charles motioned towards the back corner of the garage with his chin Max followed obediently.

Before they even came to a standstill Max was already rambling. “Charles, I am so so sorry. I don't even know how to apologize or what came over me. I guess when you freely offered me your blood something clicked in my brain like that has never happened to me before and my instincts just told me to hunt. I just want to hunt all the time. Obviously I don’t. Also that doesn't justify almost killing you obviously, I just wanted to explain and I promise I will do anything I can to stop this from happening again. I will chain myself to my bed if I have to and-”

“You can hunt me." Charles suddenly interrupted him mid rant whilst his hands were nervously fidgeting with the zipper of his racing suit.

Max stopped in his tracks, his mouth still half open. "What?"

"We have been hunting each other all our lives, Max. I'm used to it. Just maybe let me know first and don’t just show up in the middle of the night like a freak." He said it so nonchalantly Max was not sure if he was dreaming. Well, Max was sure because ever since he had died he had not been dreaming anymore. Maybe this was a very vivid daydream fantasy that was playing in his mind while he was driving?

"Are you serious?"

Charles nodded. This could not be real.

"I would probably drink from you again."

Another nod. It could not be real because that meant-

"Other things might happen again."

"For god's sake Max.” The Italian came out in Charles as he gestured wildly with his hands. “Yes. To all of those things. I want you to do your vampire shit again, okay? There. I said it. Happy? Now I kind of have to race so.."

Max smiled to himself as he watched the other driver walk away with an agitated and delicious sounding heartbeat. He perhaps was a little too happy about this.

~

Charles was about to hit the gas pedal when a knock on his rental car window startled him. Pressing the button he rolled it down and blinked up towards Max. It had been a long race weekend and all he wanted was to get away from the media and people in general. "What's up?"

Max smirked before leaning down to be on his level. Before Charles could register what the fuck was happening Max' mouth was on his in a lingering kiss and back out the window.

"Hey, Charles?" Slightly tugging on his top lip Max bared his fangs for a brief moment and then smiled, a daring spark in his darkening eyes. "Run."

..

And so what if Charles drove to his hotel like a maniac?

And so what if he left the room door open on purpose?

And so what if this time Max' lips were on his skin before his teeth were?

And so what if he woke up the next morning weak but content, covered in a warm blanket and engulfed by a cold naked body?

And so what if Max was a dead blood-drinking creature now?

Charles could always run.

But it was a lot less fun without a certain someone chasing him.

≈

the end.

[allinestarr]

Relentless 3/?

Max Verstappen x Fem driver Reader!

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Summary: Y/n L/n was a force to be reckoned with. She had the championship on palm of her hands if it weren’t for Max Verstappen. You hated him and he hated you. Right?…

Warning: mild angst, parent deaths

“Max?…”

“Hey..”

“What are you doing here?.”

“I want to talk.”

“I think you said all you needed to say last time.”

As you walked passed him to open the door, he grabbed your wrist lightly as he pleaded,

“Please, I’ll be quick. I promise.”

You wanted nothing more then to see him dragged out of your building by security, but the more you thought the more curious you were. What was so important that he would be at your front door this late at night?.

“Fine. But let’s speak inside. I don’t want to wake my neighbors.”

Unlocking the door he followed you inside. The whole time you put away your things he just stood and watched. Finally finding the silence unbearable you turned and as you were about to speak a bolt of thunder shot through the sky so loud it echoed in your apartment. Flinching slightly you closed your eyes as your heart beat as fast as the formula 1 car you drove. Nothing scared you more then storms.

Flashback

It happened when you were 10. You had just won your first Karting race and spent the whole day celebrating with your parents when on your way back home it started to rain. Soon the rain got harder and the winds faster. There was no visibility so your father didn't see the truck in front spinning towards you and before he could react it was to late. The car flipped a couple times and miraculously you weren't to hurt other then a broken arm and a few bumps and scratches. Your parents however…didn’t make it. After that your uncle took custody of you and raised you. Ever since, anytime theres a storm you always panic and think back to the time of the accident.

End of flashback

When you opened your eyes Max was staring at you. He almost looked concerned but never would you admit you were scared. People always take advantage of weakness.

"Are you going to say what you have to say?."

“Yea… first of all I wanted to apologize. I know what I said was out of line. I regretted it the moment it came out of my mouth…”

"Then why did you?"

"I was mad and.."

Another bolt of lightning interrupted him and this time, shut the power off.

"Great, no power.. Hold on let me get some light in here."

Max watched as you disappeared into your room and came back with a handful of candles setting them down throughout the kitchen and living room. Your stomach was rumbling and the food was just about cold so you decided to eat first and talk after. You set the food down on the table and looked over at Max.

“You hungry?. I always buy to much food and never eat it all.”

Max was genuinely confused. How could you offer him food and the chance to hear him out after he treated you so terribly?.

"Yea..thank you."

Once the table was set and you began eating, you finally spoke.

“So you were saying you were mad and what?”

Max wasn’t going to admit he was jealous nor that he fought with Kelly about how he talks about you all the time, so he gave you short version that it was indeed Kelly who lied and confirmed the rumors.

“Wow… I didn’t know she hated me that much. I just don’t understand why she would do it..”

“I guess she thought you were getting to much support and good media over me.” He lied.

“So what now?.”

“Kelly and I are on a break. I need time to think about our relationship. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a liar.”

“I’m sorry to hear.. i won’t tell anyone if you’re worried I will.”

“Why?. You have every right to expose her.”

“I know, but I won’t. You’ll get dragged down along with her and that’s not fair. I will keep this to myself and I won’t tell Charles either.”

“Thank you. How’s Charles by the way?.”

“He’s really good actually!.”

“Really?” He smiled.

“Yea. Alex and Charles are back together!. I went to Italy to speak to her and clear things up. I was honest and she believed me and I convinced her to come back with me to Monaco to surprise Charles. To say he was surprised was an understatement. He literally was to stunned to speak and though he was imagining her at the door!. Im just glad they are back together.”

“You’re a really good friend, you know that?.”

You smiled but just when you were about speak a gust of wind blew the windows open. Quickly running over to the living room you locked them shut. After eating and more talking you cleared up the table throwing out the empty food containers and bringing the dirty dishes to the sink. Just as you rolled up your sleeves to wash the dishes Max put his hand on your shoulder stopping you. He was so close you could feel his breath and smell his cologne. Goosebumps spread across your body and it suddenly became hot. This was wrong on so many levels. First being he has a girlfriend and second, you’re suppose to hate him. His voice brought you back to reality as he spoke.

“Wait, I’ll wash it. It’s the least I can do.”

Turning your head to the side you studied his face for a second and it wasn’t his usual cold emotionless face, instead he smiled and it felt warm. You nodded and walked back to the living room.

Max POV

The windows burst open and he watched you stride across the room to shut them. You grabbed the plates and garbage and was about to start washing them when he stopped you. He felt you tense when he touched your shoulder and it felt like there was sparks running through his body. When you turned he felt his breath catch and a blush crept on his face. He was in deep. After washing the dishes he walked to the living room catching you staring out the window. The moon illuminated your face making you look angelic and peaceful. He wished he could be stuck in this moment forever but he knew he couldn’t so he approached you and put his hand on your shoulder making you aware he was there.

Back to Present

The sounds of waves crashing put you in a trance as you stared out the window. A hand on your shoulder broke it.

“I finished up.. I’m going to head out before it gets worse out there.. I’m staying at a hotel nearby so it’s not a long walk.”

“Why don’t you stay here for the night?… It’s dark and dangerous out there. I have a guest room.”

“No I couldn’t impose…”

“You wouldn’t be. I insist. And also, I don’t want be responsible for something happening to you and have the wrath of Christian Horner and Redbull on my hands!.” You laughed.

“Yea, probably best to avoid that.” He laughed.

You smiled and walked him over to the guest room.

“There’s a bathroom over there and I might have a spare set of clothes Lewis left over here..”, you say as you rummaged through the drawers handing him a pair of shorts and t-shirt.

He looked at you curiously before you realize why.

“Oh, he sleeps here sometimes. Not in that way though. We have sleepovers and watch movies and eat junk food.” You laughed.

He smiled and shook his head.

“Don’t tell anyone I’m wearing this, especially Christian. He would have my balls for it.” He laughed holding up the Mercedes T-shirt.

“Our secret.” You smiled.

“So.. theres a portable charger in the bedside table in case you need it for your phone. I’m down the hall if you need anything. Goodnight..”

Max watched you walk away and as you shut the door he released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. You made him feel things he hasn’t felt in a long time. He doesn’t remember the last time he genuinely laughed like he did with you. It made his decision harder. If he became friends with you, Kelly would be miserable and it wouldn’t work out. It would break P’s heart if he left and he loved her so much like as if she was his own daughter. Instead of overthinking, he decided to just change and try to fall asleep. But it sounded easier then it was when you were a couple feet away. Little did he know the same thoughts ran through your head in the other room. Max had to decide soon cause he couldn’t avoid Kelly forever and the start of the season was just around the corner.

Morning came sooner then you’d liked and the events of last night made you think questions like, “Would it be awkward?, Are you technically friends?, What should I say when I see him?…”. One things for sure, you’re not going to find out by laying down in bed all day. Getting up you quickly brushed your teeth and hair before opening the door. The guest room door was still closed so you went to the kitchen and started a fresh pot of coffee and whipped up a quick breakfast for the both of you. After setting the table you started bringing over the food and coffee when Max came out of the bedroom already changed back into his clothe.

“Good morning.” You smiled.

“Morning.”

“I made some breakfast and coffee. Help yourself.”

He smiled and sat across you filling his plate with eggs and turkey bacon before digging in. There wasn’t much conversation while you ate and when you both finished, it was time to have the talk.

“So.. I’m not gonna lie, I’m pretty confused where we go from here. Are we friends or just colleagues?. I know you’ve been dealing with a lot with Kelly and I don’t want to be the reason you guys break up or cause tension in your relationship. I’ll support whatever you decide.”

At the mention of Kelly a feeling of dread overtook Max but he shook it off to worry about later.

“Um.. I don’t want to go back to how it used to be. We’ve had this rivalry going on since our karting days and to be honest I don’t even know how it started, but I do know it’s done. I don’t know what I want to do about Kelly right now but I think we can try to be friends just… in secret till I figure it out.”

You were bit disappointed but accepted his answer.

“Ok.”

Just then Max’s phone rang and the screen revealed Kelly’s contact with a picture of Max, P and Kelly. You looked at him and nodded with a small smile. He got up and walked back to the guest room to take the call.

“Hello.”

“Hey, I haven’t heard from you in a few days. P’s asking about you and said she misses you… Also, I really want to apologize for what I did. I was just so tired of hearing about Y/n and I thought maybe you didn’t love me anymore and felt feelings for her. I know what I did was unforgivable but I promise I’ll never do it again. We’ve been together for so many years and I don’t want to just throw away this relationship. We are a family. Please just think about it. However long it takes you, I’ll wait...”

Max was as conflicted as ever. Kelly was right that they had been together for a long time and were a family but what about y/n. He couldn’t deny he had an attraction to you but was it worth losing Kelly and P to explore this new possibility?. The consequences for him wouldn’t be as bad as it would for you. You’d already been through so much with the rumors and just being a woman in formula 1 he couldn’t cause you any more pain. As much as it hurt him to not just admit his feelings to you, he had to bury his love for you. He had to protect you even if it cost his happiness.

“I guess we could try to move past this but I won’t give you another chance if this happens again. I’m in Monaco at a hotel so I’ll be home today. We’ll talk more later.”

“Ok. I love you…”

“Love you too.”

It sounded forced even in his head as he said it. When he hung up he regretted taking the call. In truth, Max had been falling out of love with Kelly for some time. He didn’t know when it happened but it did. She started showing up less to his races, decided to go to shoots and work instead of spending winter break on vacation as a family and got extremely jealous when Y/n joined the grid. The only reason he didn’t leave Kelly was because of P. He made his way back to the kitchen where you still sat at the table.

“So.. everything ok?.”

Max hesitated as his pulse quickened.

“Um.. yea. I guess so.”

You couldn’t explain why you heart dropped to your stomach and why it hurt. It made you feel guilty for hoping he would chose you over them. He was never yours to have. You mustered up a smile as you spoke.

“I’m happy for you. We’ll always be secret friends.”

Max felt sick at the word friends. He wanted to scream and say, “No I don’t want to be your friend!. I want more!. You make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time!.”. But the words were stuck in his throat. So he just smiled. He smiled and accepted his fate.

“Yea. Secret friends…Thank you for everything. Letting me stay here and keeping the secret about Kelly. I really appreciate it. I would stay longer but I have to get back to my hotel and pack up, Kelly will be expecting me. Ill see you Bahrain in a few weeks.”

He walked to the door and you followed. He looked like he was going to say something but looked down and walked to the elevator. Before the doors closed he looked up and said your name. You said his back as the doors finally closed.

Y/n: I'm fucked 😳

Rae: what happened to, "Hi, how are you?". What's wrong???...

Y/n: Hi how are you?. Hope this message finds you well. Also, im fucked 😫

Rae: Ok, Ok. I get it, sorry. but seriously what's wrong??

Y/n: I may be in love with Max Verstappen.....🫢

—————Incoming FaceTime call Rae——————

"Whattttttttttttttttttttttt!!!!!!" Rae screamed.

"Yea"

"What do you mean yea. You can't throw this bomb at me and not elaborate. You know im a sucker for a good enemies to lovers trope but this is messed up even for me. If im not mistaken, you're like arch rivals. Y'all have hated each other since karting. He literally just crashed into you on purpose in Spain. And when I was there a few weeks ago, you looked like you wanted to kill him. Please I have to know. How????."

"Well when you put it like that I should really hate is guts.. But things have changed. He slept over last night. He actually just left."

"Girl you're about to give me a heart attack. You fucked him to!!!!!!!"

'No!!!!!"

"Then what the hell was he doing at your place!."

"After I dropped off Alex I stoped and got food and when I got home he was sitting outside my door. He wanted to talk and I told him to leave but my curiosity got the best of me and I let him come inside. He just stood there and I told him to talk or leave and it started to thunder and the lights went out. I was hungry and I didn't want to be an asshole even though I had every right to, so I offered him food."

"You broke bread with the enemy?. You have truly lost your mind."

"Rae, let me finish."

"Sorry, go on."

"Well he said it was Kelly who confirmed the rumors. She was jealous I was getting more press over him."

"That bitch!."

"Yea. But I told him I wouldn't tell anyone including Charles."

"Why?. You could finally get him back for what he's done to you through the years. He wouldn't recover from this."

"I know and that's why I won't. And that goes to you too. Don't say a peep to anyone. Including Lando. Bless him, he a great friend but he has a big mouth."

" I know.." Rae giggled.

"Am I missing something?."

"Well.. That day you went out and I got bored I went to Landos and we were flirting and one thing led to another and we fucked. And boy does he eat..."

"EWWWWWW, please stop. I don't want to hear you talk about you sex adventures with Lando."

"Sorry and I hope you're not mad at me. He's your friend and colleague."

"Im not mad and to be honest he's been nagging me about asking you out for a while now. So go for it. You guys are like made for each other. Everyone sees it. We actually had a poll going around for how long it would take for one of you to make a move and I just won $800.", you laughed.

"First, thanks. Second, you should have told me before!. I would been sleeping with him sooner and third, that's mean!. You're splitting that money with me. Its only fair for your betrayal. And stop changing the subject, get on with it."

"Ok, that's fair. When I went to wash the dishes he stoped me and put his hand on my shoulder and I could feel his breath on me and he smelled so good. I felt like my body was on fire and I looked at him and I just wanted him to kiss me so bad. Maybe even fuck me right on the counter but then I stopped myself and walked away. When he was done he came to the living room and said he was leaving but I told him to stay."

"Why?."

"Well there was a storm and it looked dangerous and I didn't want him to get hurt and be responsible for it."

"Yea, sure.."

"What do you mean sure?"

"Be honest Y/n, you wanted him there."

"Uhhhhh, ok. I wanted him to stay. I just wanted to be around him longer."

"And?."

"I took him to the guest room and gave him some of Lewis's clothe to sleep in and told him if he needed me id be across the hall and then I left."

"And then??."

"And then nothing. He stayed there all night. But I swear at some point in the middle of the night I woke up and I heard the door knob jiggle but then nothing happened. Maybe I was hallucinating. I woke up made us breakfast, he came out and we spoke. He said he didn't know what he was going to do with Kelly, break up or try to work it out but for now we would be "Secret friends"."

"What a load of bullshit. Like that's not going to blow up on you guys."

"I know Rae. But if it means we could be friends, then I would take that risk. Then Kelly called and he walked away to speak to her and I couldn't overhear anything except him saying I love you. He looked conflicted when he came out of the bedroom and I asked if everything was ok and he said it was going to be. I don't know why but my heart dropped to my stomach. I walked him out and he looked like he wanted to say something but didn't. When he got in the elevator he looked up and said my name and I said his and the doors closed. Now I can't stop thinking about him. What am I going to do!!!."

"Girl, you're fucked."

"State the obvious Rae."

"Sorry I can't help it. I don't think you're in love with him. Maybe attracted, but not love. Perhaps the solution is getting rid of that pent up sexual frustration."

"What the hell are you talking about?."

"Lets be honest here. You haven't gotten some in a while. You know how the say you have to get under guy to get over one?. That's what you got to do!."

"Gosh Rae, you're insane. I just pour my heart out and you tell me to go find someone to fuck?."

"Well..yea. Trust me, this will fix your problem."

"I mean, I guess that could be a solution."

"No, not a guess. It will!."

"Ok, ok. No need to peer pressure me further, I get it. Ill try your way. But if it doesn't work, you owe me a lifetime supply of ice cream."

"Hey, not all of us are rich Formula 1 drivers. Just give it a try. If you ever need to talk, im here."

"I know, thanks. So I guess ill be seeing you at Bahrain with Lando?."

"Well I've been texting him and he asked me to come but I just wanted to talk to you before i pursued any further with him. Now that I know you're ok with it, I suppose I will see you!."

"Great. Im glad you'll be there with me. I honesty don't know what's going to happen when I see him but I hope he won't be like the old Max."

"We will just have to wait and see. If he tries anything ill tell Lando to crash into him." Rae laughed.

"Oh and you think he would do that for you?. Lando is super loyal to Mclaren."

"Im very persuasive if you know what I mean. He loves when I do this thing when I sit on his.."

"Rae I'm literally going to hang up!!"

"Sorry!! Sorry!!. I got your back is all I meant."

"I know. But I really got to get going. Im meeting up with Mick for lunch."

"Mick Schumacher?."

"Yea."

"Oh hes cute. I spoke to him one time at the Mercedes hospitality. He's sweet and funny."

"I see where you're going and im not going there. I've know him for a while and he's like a brother and he literally works for Mercedes too. Its not going to happen."

"Keep convincing yourself but I wouldn't be surprised if he had a thing for you. He's always posting you on IG congratulating you and just random pictures of you."

"Rae, you're looking to much into it."

"Ok, whatever you say. Now go get dressed for your date."

"Its not a date. Its lunch."

"Ok, go get ready for "lunch". Call me later, I want to hear all about it."

"I don't know what's to hear about but sure. Talk to you later, Love you."

"Love you more. Byeeeee."

————————————Call ended——————————————

Getting ready you couldn't stop thinking about how things have changed. That, you couldn't deny. Was it really love or lust. One way or another you would find out soon enough. Lets just hope it won't end in tragedy.

Previously

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @sadg3 @d3kstar @runs-with-sciss0rs

[yallemagne]

So I finished the first season of X-Men: The Animated Series of course. Highlights?

Episode 1 & 2: Night of the Sentinels

Jubilee's father really fuckin sold her out huh? And holy shit the fucking sentinels. Dog, why did you MAKE THEM SO BIG. I had expected like that they started small and got bigger ones when the X-Men were revealed, but no, without even alerting the nation that they were making these robots, they sent a giant ass robot into a mall to capture one teenager.

Me pointing out "huh Morph is getting a lot of moments here, I like it" followed by them immediately dying. Like damn. They really did that. No wonder the creators backed out of having Thunderbird be in Morph's role, that would have just been insulting. Especially since he probably wouldn't have been brought back.

"Tell Cyclops... I made him a convertible."

Cyclops refuses to apologize for leaving without Morph and Beast but instead offers Logan an opportunity for revenge. It's so them. These petty bastards.

Episode 3: Enter Magneto

Beast... you're so silly. So, Beast refuses a rescue by Magneto (he's imprisoned) because "I'm awaiting a fair trial that will prove my innocence"... girl. You are a giant blue man. So, yeah, another case where Magneto was right.

Sabretooth is such a fake-ass bitch, I love it. So, he shows up at the trial causing a ruckus and gets injured and the X-Men take him in and start treating him like their pathetic little meow meow. This couldn't possibly go wrong.

"Come on, they're gonna kill him!" "Good." *turns around* "WHAT?"

"He's a threat." "He was near death." "Not near enough."

They just keep giving Wolverine all the best lines.

Episode 4: Deadly Reunions

Sabretooth, my poor little meow meow... all you did was a few itty bitty kitty murders... That's what Charles is saying at the start of this episode.

Xavier truly does try to get to the root of Sabretooth's anger with some super therapy, but alas, Sabretooth is just That Bitch. We do know that a competent telepath can temper his anger though, just look at Birdy.

They leave Jubilee alone with him acknowledging full well "this man is more dangerous than Wolverine... have fun babysitting!" He's restrained in a chair growling "let me at 'em" as Senator Kelly is being racist on TV and Jubilee very kindly turns it off and he's like "sowwy I'm twying to be a good boy... 😿" So of course Jubilee sees his restraints are hurting his wrists and releases him to help. Hahahaha. Oh girl.

If this were a show being produced today, I could totally see Sabretooth being accepted by the X-Men because "daww look he's angry just like you Wolverine" being drawn out into a longer arc where he actually gains their trust so it creates a genuine rift in the team... but also maybe he's not that patient for a scheme like that.

(also I know the show probably isn't going with the continuity that they're blood-related, but Wolverine telling them Sabretooth is nothing but trouble and getting hit with "but he's just like you 🥺" is very brother-coded okay?? Anyone who has a terrible older brother can relate.)

"Alright you egg-sucking piece of gutter trash. You always liked pushing around people smaller than you. WELL, I'M SMALLER! TRY PUSHING ME!!" << that's some little brother dialogue.

(… Morph would have listened to Wolverine about Sabretooth. Morph knows the Deep Lore.)

Episode 5: Captive Hearts

Callisto saw Cyclops and immediately said "I'm gonna make him my trophy husband", and while that is a valid reaction, no means no, hun.

They literally establish Storm as the Morlock's future Moses basically with her promising to come back for them when the time is right and they feel safe to breech the surface. And then they gave Magneto that role in '97. Ugh. He has the nerve to say Xavier just left them down there when it was in fact Storm that respected their right to self-determination.

Episode 6: Cold Vengeance

I love every time I see Sabretooth, he's just so silly-looking. No wonder everyone else imprinted on him like "hehe silly orange kitty" he's so BIG. He's incredibly top-heavy, just look at his bazongas.

We got through this with no sacrifice of Inuit life but a sombre sentiment that they'll be abandoning the old ways rather than rebuilding their homes.

Episode 7: Slave Island

Jubilee and Gambit have a nice little dynamic. He's the first person Jubilee used her powers to protect and she does it multiple times. I imagine he's like her cool older brother with street smarts.

No wonder Gambit was suspicious of Genosha in '97. Can't really trust that all is well when the foundation of that place was quite literally built with slavery.

This just makes Magneto's "tsk tsk Charles didn't use his wealth and resources to ship a load of UNWILLING Morlocks to Genosha for their own good" comment in '97 all the more frustrating. Man can be a dumbass.

Anyway--- CABLE CABLE CABLE. My silly little big boy.

Episode 8: The Unstoppable Juggernaut

Juggernaut is such a funny guy. I feel like usually, the big guys don't get to be the wise-cracking type, so this piece of shit was fun to watch.

Also just love Colossus, he's perfect.

Episode 9: The Cure

It's hard to feel bad for Warren when he's literally rich and funding a project that can be easily weaponized to hurt mutants. Sure, he was tricked and wasn't actually funding his "cure", but it would have been awful even if he got what he wanted. Just wear one of those collars for the rest of your life, jackass.

HOW IS NO ONE CHECKING IN ON THIS RESEARCH?? This experimentation on human beings is taking place with no government interference???

Pyro and Avalanche are fucking don't even try to convince me otherwise. Pyro, I don't care where you are from, I'm gonna be so weird about you calling every man you meet “darling”.

Episode 10: Come the Apocalypse

The public will see literally any villain and be like "A RENEGADE MUTANT!!" Like yeah sure I think Apocalypse technically is a mutant?? But like they really just profile all criminals as mutants.

Again, not sorry for you, rich boy.

Poor Rogue, having to absorb all these men's damage.

Episode 11 & 12: Days of Future Past

Bishop is a fucking traitor holy shit. Sure he gets better but damn. Girly was really like "The face-eating jaguars would never eat my face." and then was immediately told he was no longer needed.

"Someone... or something has come back through the time portal." "CHECK PLEASE! TIME PORTAL?"

"You kids better behave yourselves; I'm staying behind to babysit."

"Okay, ROUND BOY. Let's dance."

Wolverine has all the best lines.

Wonder why Mystique specifically chose to impersonate Gambit for the assassination. Perhaps he seemed the most likely? Perhaps a grudge against him for his relationship with Rogue?

Episode 13: The Final Decision

I'm so fucking disappointed that the fate of mutantkind lies in the hands of Senator Kelly because, dog, I wanna shoot him.

When you make a giant racist robot factory and even the giant racist robot factory is smart enough to recognize that mutant rights are human rights and so it resolves to protect humanity by replacing it with robots. Fucking dumbasses.

Honestly makes you wonder what the fuck Trask thought he was doing coming back in the new series. He knew that starting up another Master Mold would inevitably lead to the robots replacing politicians' brains with computers and he DID IT AGAIN ANYWAY.

Seeing Chuck and Magnus working together always warms my heart. And then they go right back to being enemies.

That Mister Sinister teaser at the end was... I'm not gonna say it.

[visionofvoid]

How the Drivers React to Meeting/Seeing You For the First Time - Part One

Max Verstappen:

He was always supportive of Kelly picking her own staff, especially when it came to a role she would be working very closely with such as a personal assistant. He would sit with her after Penelope went to bed and help her choose the person adequate enough for the role. Max wanted someone that Kelly and Penelope would feel comfortable around, someone they could rely on and he immediately liked the look of Blake’s application. First impression purely from the resume was that he assumed Blake was a male but boy he was wrong. When Max was first introduced to Blake he immediately felt what he could only describe as uneasiness around her. She seemed comfortable straight off the bat, with the hustle and bustle of a lavish life that many would find intimidating. 

“Isn’t Blake a male name?” Were Max’s first words to her. Kelly apologised profusely before Blake simply smiled and offered a soft giggle. 

“I’ve never met a Max that wasn’t a female before. I guess we learn something new everyday.”

It was safe to say that Max had never had someone go up against him like that, someone that was more certainly not on his level or even remotely in the position to do so. So, he fuelled his uneasieness around Blake into something he was all too familiar with; hate. He had hoped that she would be gone in a few months time and that everything could go back to normal. 

Carlos Sainz:

To him you were always Ezekiel’s younger sister that just wanted someone to play with. You were still the younger sister that annoyed her three older brothers to no end in sight, wanting to feel like you belonged. He remembered the constant whining to your mother when the boys were able to go out but you couldn’t, you had to stay home because you were younger. Of course you had your own friends but you were all several years younger, crushing over boys that would never look at them in a different light other than Ezekiel’s younger sister and friends. 

Then you moved away to study abroad in America. You partied, studied, worked with children and loved, had your heart broken and cried many tears. Ezekiel, now all grown up, had started a family of his own but still spoke to Carlos on a weekly basis, catching the race whenever it was the Spanish Grand Prix and spent time with his childhood best friend when Carlos had time off. 

Carlos hadn’t seen Andrea in years until Ezekiel decided to surprise both of them at the Austin Grand Prix. Carlos was floored when Ezekiel rounded the corner, bringing his best friend in for a brotherly hug before pulling away, his eyes widening when they landed on Andrea. She still had her looks from back when they were younger but this time she grew into her body. She dressed maturely and managed to take his breath away all at the same time. 

“Andrea, wow! This is a surprise.” Ezekiel smirked as Carlos moved in, embracing Andrea in a tight hug. 

“Ah, my second favourite Spanish racer.” Andrea’s stupid and childish high-school crush looked as handsome as ever and she couldn’t help but feel insecure. She knew she would always be the best friend’s younger sister to Carlos. 

“Second?”

“Well, yes. Alonso is the first.”

Charles Leclerc:

He met Manon by chance. It was the classic right place right time trope that you see in romantic comedies. He would never say it was love at first sight, no, but he was immediately entranced by her. She was an enigma. 

The way her body moved to the beat of the music, her tight bun slowly losing its structural integrity the more she bounced around her small group of friends, strands of her dark brown hair sticking to her sweaty face. She seemed unfazed by some of the looks she was accumulating from some of the other females that were dancing a bit more modestly on the dance-floor but everyone else enjoyed her confidence, enjoyed how she let go to the sound of the music.

Everyone could just tell that she and her group of friends were not from the area, but instead they acted and looked like tourists, not that it was a bad thing. He felt a bit weird, sitting with George, Pierre and Lando in the VIP booth and just watching her but he noticed how she didn’t seem to be drinking the alcohol like her friends, but instead having fun whilst sober and making sure she was safe. 

“Go talk to her, mate.” George finally caught out, an espresso martini in his hand. The four boys decided to have a week in Monaco during their break, just have fun and let go whilst they were all young and before the world and their year got a little bit more crazier. “What have you got to lose?” Charles wondered in his head how he could sneak down to the general dancefloor and introduce himself to the girl without being noticed. 

He finally found his way walking towards her, offering a smile to some of the fans on his way but he was on a mission. He felt his friends eyes watching him and he secretly hoped he wouldn’t be rejected, he couldn’t deal with the teasing. It wasn’t hard to spot the girl from ground level, her bun sat tall and bobbed up and down. She grinned at her friends before spinning around and paused as the song ended, her eyes landing right on Charles. 

“You just gonna stand there or introduce yourself?” 

Daniel Ricciardo:

Claudia was eternally grateful when her uncle decided to offer her a position as a Junior Events Manager working out of Red Bull Racing in Milton Keynes. She had just graduated college and was looking to kick start her professional career, applying for various roles across London before Christian and Geri approached her with the idea to apply for the new 2023 intake. Christian had assured her that he would not be making the final decision and could only give a recommendation and that she would undertake the same application process as everyone else that was applying. It was only fair, she thought. 

So, when she finally got the call to come in and sign all the necessary legal documents and bring in relevant information (such as passports for international purposes such as following the race and security clearances) she was so thankful and so relieved. She was caught in traffic and was running a little bit behind her personal schedule, enough to make only herself nervous, so she pulled into one of the only remaining staff car parks closest to the entrance. She managed to beat someone else, the driver throwing their hands up in annoyance and honking at her, not that she was really worried about that for the time being. 

Daniel was livid. Not only did someone steal his car park but he was now ten minutes late. He liked to be on time, he liked to arrive early even but he had forgotten what traffic was like in the area at that time in the morning. The small action set him off for the rest of the morning, his stomps on the gravel kicking up bits that went flying everywhere. He knew what she looked like, at least the behind of her that he saw rush into the building. Christian finally spotted his third drive, Max and Sergio beside him, all three dressed in Red Bull branded clothing.

“Daniel, so lovely to finally join us. I have someone I’d like you to meet.” Christian began, shaking his hand before Daniel turned to the other two racers, sharing a smile and shaking their hands.

“Sorry I’m late. There was this incident in the car park and i-” Christian smiled brightly, looking behind Daniel causing the man to look over his shoulder. Though he only saw the back of her he knew this was the woman from this morning, the front of her matching the clothes, the same copper hair.

“My niece, Claudia. Claudia, Daniel Ricciardo.” Well, this is great, Daniel thought. 

Lance Stroll:

Piper Broadstone is the youngest daughter of two incredibly wealthy car collectors and curators. She was no stranger to the glitz and glamour of the life she was born into, sometimes loathing it when she wished to have some secrets to herself, sometimes appreciating it when she needed to use it for her own gain. She is an incredibly smart young woman, known to be quite quiet unless conversing with close family and friends. She would wear the most lavish dresses to galas, charity balls and auction nights and bask in the flash of the photography. Tonight was no different. 

Piper sat in a rather uncomfortable seat decorated with an almost acidic green backing. She listened as the auctioneer called out the newest bids, going back and forth with bidders and new prices. Every now and then she would put in a bid for something that piqued her interest; the first edition of a literary classic, an all-expenses paid trip to somewhere exotic and sometimes jewellery. She was oblivious to what was currently up for grabs. 

“Fifty-thousand dollars going to number six-zero-three. Going once, going twice-” Piper held up her bidders paddle, her lucky number eighteen in white block letters. 

“Seventy-five thousand.” The auctioneer seemed taken back by the twenty-five thousand increased bid but nodded, calling out according to his script. Lance looked over to where the woman called out the new bid, dissatisfied with the fact that her back was facing towards him, as was everyone else on the table or they were obstructed by a large structural column. He did note that the colour dress she wore was very similar to the green of his racing suit. His father’s eyebrows raised slightly before he simply smirked. His father was the reason why this charity auction was put together in the first place, it was good PR. 

“Seventy-five thousand. Going once, going twice. Sold! An one-on-one drive and date with Aston Martin’s Formula One race car driver, Lance Stroll, is sold to Piper Broadstone.” Lance, who was about to swallow a mouthful of whiskey choked from the sudden announcement before looking up to where the woman sat, now turned around and smiled at him. 

Piper looked back to Lance, someone she had only seen from a distance at other similar events or being briefly introduced to by her parents. The Broadstones and the Stroll’s were quite well known, in the same financial calibre. Well, there could be worse things to win at an auction.

[amirasainz]

Obsessed with your fics! Could you please do she’s sick and the drivers and wags fuss over her and acting like she’s gonna die when it’s just a cold?

Hi guys. Sorry for not posting anything for such a long time. I was so busy with school and travelling and didn't really have the motivation to write anything. Hope you all enjoy reading this and you can always send me some requests. -XoXo

______________________________________________

Flu-Season

Amira’s bout of the common flu had her feeling utterly miserable. Like any sick princess, she knew there was only one thing to do: call her brother.

Carlos wasted no time whisking her off to the doctor’s office. His nervous energy filled the waiting room, and if it weren’t for Rebecca holding Amira’s hand, she might have fainted from the dizzying pace of her older brother’s pacing.

The doctor’s diagnosis—common flu—elicited tears from Rebecca and a dramatic faint from Carlos. Back home at the Sainz-Donalds residence, Amira found herself cocooned in warmth. Five blankets enveloped her, a cute sea otter stuffed animal nestled beside her, and the couple—Carlos and Rebecca—lying on either side of her.

After an hour of sleep, Amira stirred to the gentle touch of someone stroking her hair. Opening her eyes, she met Carmen’s friendly gaze. “Hey, darling. How are you feeling?” Carmen whispered. “Why are we whispering?” Amira croaked. “We don’t want to wake the others,” Carmen replied.

Taking in her surroundings, Amira’s heart swelled. Kika and Rebecca laid at the foot of the bed, Kelly held her tightly from behind, and Leo and Roscoe each guarded near her head.

Emotions overwhelmed her, and tears welled up. “No, don’t cry, honey,” soothed Kelly, who had woken up as Amira shifted. Both Carmen and Kelly gently lulled the crying girl back to sleep. As Amira drifted off again, Carmen whispered to Kelly, “She truly is our brave girl.”

Meanwhile, in the living room:

“Gentlemen, pay very careful attention,” Carlos began. “Today, we’re gathered here to ensure that MY sister recovers faster than any Formula 1 car.”

Seated before him were Charles, Lando, Lewis, Pierre, Max, and George—each looking like picture-perfect soldiers. Carlos assumed the role of sergeant, addressing them with authority. A whiteboard displayed a timetable with different names and times.

“Max, you and Kelly will take Amira for a walk around 3 p.m. Charles and Lewis, dinner duty in 40 minutes. The rest of us will clean the bedroom. Carmen and Becca will assist with her shower, whil—”

“I can help her shower,” Lando interrupted. The room fell silent; all eyes turned to Lando, his hand raised. Carlos approached him, predator-like. “Lando Norris. Listen carefully, because I’ll say this only once. You’ll never come near my sister again if you keep talking like that. Do you hear me?” His final words were a whispered threat. Carlos waited for Lando’s nod of understanding.

“As I said before, Carmen and Rebecca…”